


Moonlight Desires

by combatfaerie



Series: Moonlight Desires [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Brollins, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Sexual Content, Werewolves, rollynch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:49:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24103150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie
Summary: Becky Lynch thought she was WWE's only resident werewolf. Seth Rollins thought he was. When their paths cross on one fateful full-moon night, will their shared secrets bring them closer together or force them apart for their own safety?
Relationships: Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Seth Rollins | Tyler Black/Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox
Series: Moonlight Desires [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052228
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

Becky couldn't think of anyone who would call her a creature of habit. In the women's locker room, she was one of the most spontaneous ones, always up for a late movie or an evening out. On most nights, anyway. Every full moon night, the saying became very apt and she was very much a creature defined by habit—emphasis on _creature_. She would usually make an excuse a few other times in the month just so her friends didn't make any connection between her absences and the full moon, and thus far she hadn't had a problem.

Up to that point, though, WWE had never had to relocate a show on short notice, at least not as long as she had been working for them. But a tornado had almost torn the arena in half, so they quickly booked one in the next closest city and did their best to honour all the existing tickets. It sucked for the fans who couldn't make the extra journey, although they at least had the option of getting a refund. She was left scrambling to find another location where she could shift; the one she had meticulously researched was too far away for her to make it back to the hotel before the morning meeting. A shift was mentally and physically draining, and she usually had to spend at least an hour or so recovering in her car.

The prospect of shifting in an unknown place had her on edge all night, making her grateful she didn't have a match, only an interview and a brief altercation. She could already feel her control starting to wane, and if she'd had to fight Natalya for real, the Queen of Hearts might have found herself with her heart not on her sleeve but on the floor—or worse, in Becky's mouth. "Hey, Becks." As if on cue, Natalya came up and hugged her. "Are you okay? You're looking a little pale."

"Ha! Nice one, Nattie." Becky's last attempt at a spray tan hadn't gone so well, and while she wasn't as violently orange as she could be, the difference between her natural skin tone and the fake tan was glaringly evident around her armpits, so she had switched up her gear to cover her upper arms.

Natalya frowned a bit. "I'm serious. You're not looking so good. I mean, don't get me wrong, you're always beautiful, but you look a bit under the weather. Are you not feeling well? We can ask if you can film your bit backstage and I can just say you're a coward for not coming out to face me. We should be able to bump the confrontation to next week. . . ."

Becky shook her head. The bosses were finally starting to take her seriously, in large part due to the swell of fan support she had online. She couldn't afford to squander a single opportunity now. "I'll be fine," she promised. Natalya was someone she knew from her earliest wrestling days in Canada, and she trusted her implicitly in the ring, which made her feel a bit better. "Just maybe avoid gut shots if you can?"

"You got it." Smiling, Natalya kissed her cheek. "But if you need to switch things up, just let me know and we can go talk to someone. I'm sure we can think of a quick fix."

It was an utter slog and she was sweating by the end of it, which wasn't like her, but Becky got through it. After thanking Natalya quietly backstage, Becky headed to Paul Heyman's office. "Paul, I'm not—"

"Lynch. You look like shit." As Paul rose, he made an apologetic gesture. "You know what I mean. What's wrong?"

Wrapping an arm around her stomach, Becky drew on all her acting skills. "I'm not sure. I think it's just a flu. Maybe something I ate? But I'm not feeling great. If you don't need me for the rest of the night, do you mind if I take off?"

Paul shook his head. "You're done. Did you want to check in with the doctor first and get looked over?"

Becky shook her head so quickly it made her dizzy, and she had to brace herself against the door frame. "No. I'm sure it's nothing a hot shower and some extra sleep won't fix. If I'm not better by tomorrow, though, I'll see the doc. I promise."

"Okay." Paul didn't look convinced. "Do you want someone to drive you to the hotel? There's plenty of people to spare."

"I don't want to be a bother." Becky gave him a strained smile. _Can't be here, can't be here!_ throbbed in her head like a second pulse, and she felt her knuckles start to pop. "The hotel's not far. I'll be fine. But thank you. Can you please ask one of the girls to drive Charlotte back to the hotel so I can take our rental, though?"

He gave her a dubious look, but eventually Paul nodded. "Okay. If you change your mind, just call. Pull off to the side of the road and call me and I'll have someone come meet you, okay?"

"I will. Thank you." Becky backed out of the office and staggered to the women's locker room, debating how hard her ring gear would be to get off in the forest. If her sweat dried much more, it would be an utter pain, and then she would have to explain to Wardrobe why her gear had claw marks running through it. In the locker room, she forced herself to strip down and take a cool shower—if she could lower her body temperature, it would help hold off the change for a bit—before changing into yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. It was a cooler night, but she wore flip-flops as well, making sure everything she was wearing was not only easy to take off in a hurry but also to put on with shaking hands that used to be paws. 

_I must look REALLY BAD_ , Becky thought as she hurried to the parking lot. Normally everyone from fellow wrestlers to sound crew members chatted with her on her way out, but now everyone she passed just said quick goodbyes and that they hoped she felt better soon. _Why did the full moon have to be TONIGHT?_ It hadn't been on a Monday for so long that she almost forgot how to cope on a wrestling night.

"Dad, you never said there would be nights like these," Becky muttered as she drove to the nearest wooded area she'd been able to find on a map. She had inherited her lycanthropy from her father, which was the main reason her mother made sure Becky always had access to him, and when Becky first fell in love with wrestling, she figured her father would be the first to discourage her. On the contrary, he thought it might hone her control of her wolf even more and even paid for her first wrestling lessons.

She had planned to drive out further, but she swerved as soon as the cramps set in, coming to a stop just before a tree. "This'll have to do," she muttered, grabbing a large tote bag that held a towel and a few bottles of water; her gear bag was stowed in the trunk and she thought she heard her cell phone ringing, but it would have to wait. "Sorry, Charlotte," she hissed as she shut the driver's door and headed into the woods. "I need a different type of bitch session right now." 

Becky found a tree with lots of thick lower branches and took a quick glance around to make sure there wasn't anyone in the vicinity. She hadn't seen the kind of casual garbage that would imply a lot of human traffic—gum wrappers, condoms, tissues—but it was better to be safe. When she couldn't put it off any longer, she stripped down to the skin and put everything in the tote bag, stashing it in the highest branches she could reach and tucking it out of sight. Then she dropped to the ground and welcomed the wolf.

Movies never seemed to get it right. They always made the transformation look either majestic and wondrous or brutal and grotesque. Becky likened it more to a strenuous workout: the more often you did it, the easier it became. Since she had been transforming since puberty, she had almost two decades of experience. That certainly made it easier in some ways, but it still held a hint of magic for her. All she had to do was _push_ : push her muscles to their limits, push her human essence to the side, push the idea of fur and claws to the forefront of her brain, and then her body would twist and writhe and before she knew it, she had four feet on the ground and a swirling universe of scents in her nose.

She took off at a light lope at first, swishing her tail back and forth happily. One of Becky's favourite parts of any WWE tour in Europe was being able to run with her father and brother and cousins again. She had met a few werewolves in the States that she trusted with her secret, but running with them almost felt business-like. It reminded her of being a kid and being expected to play nice with the neighbour's children just because her mother was friends with theirs; there was no real connection aside from one common bond, and that was forced upon them. Even when she was in the other werewolves' respective home zones, she only got in touch to let them know she would be shifting in the area so they didn't mistake her as a threat; if they asked her to run with them, she occasionally agreed, but more often than not she ran alone, letting the wind and the trees be her company.

Further and further she raced through the trees, up a gentle incline that looked like it had been carved out by a long-ago river. The scents were deeper there, richer and so pure that she almost didn't catch the intrusion into her wild wonderland.

"Hello?" It was only one human, so the voice didn't carry far, but Becky could tell that it was a man's voice, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. When he called out again, she started skulking her way back down to the lower forest, but by the time her car was in sight, she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary but taillights in the distance. Someone must have spotted her car—and the shitty parking job—and thought she might need assistance. She shivered a bit at the idea. On any other night, she would be grateful for the person's thoughtfulness, but if she had been much closer, the person might have felt threatened by seeing a wolf so close—and if she had picked up on his fear. . . .

Becky shook her head and huffed out a long breath. He hadn't seen her, so there was nothing to worry about, and she let out a modest howl to remind herself that the night was young and all the discomfort she had felt earlier had been burned away by the change. Now she just had to run and enjoy the night, shift back, find a place where her car could sit for an hour or so undisturbed while she recuperated, and then get back to the hotel.

But then another all-too-human sound invaded: a car door slamming shut. Becky slunk closer to her car, but there was no one near it and no signs of tampering. Heading back up into better cover, she followed the curve of the road until she saw an SUV pulled to the side—with a much better parking job than she had managed. _Late night traveller,_ she thought, the words coming slowly to her wolf brain. _Probably pulled over to have a piss._ But then she heard the distinctive rustle of a plastic bag. Unless the person was very fastidious and brought toilet paper, why would they need to take a bag along with them? She crept under the low branches of a pine tree, growling irritably when some of the needles caught in her fur, and watched the SUV intently.

She recognized the man's paranoia, looking right and left for anyone who might be watching, then looking again in case he had missed something the first time. She recognized the possessive hold on the bag, as if it were his life line. She recognized the sound of quickened breathing and the taste of anxiety and anticipation that the man's sweat put into the air. More than that, she recognized the scent of _wrestling_ : the singular smells of the mats, the ropes, the turnbuckles that never came out after just one shower, at least not to a werewolf's keen nose.

Had one of her friends followed her? Had Paul sent someone after her, thinking she might not be able to make it back to the hotel? Staying low to the ground, Becky prowled closer and closer, taking in more of his scent as she crept closer. There were two opposing scents her brain couldn't reconcile, though: _wolf_ and _Seth_. She was close enough now to see that it was Seth, wearing one of his wrestling t-shirts and . . . sweat pants? That didn't seem right. He had been in a skinny jeans phase of late, not that Becky spent much time checking out what he was wearing—or him in general.

The loose-fitting clothing made her think of her tote, stowed in a tree back by her car. Comfortable shirt and yoga pants so they were easy to get on and off. And Seth's shirt was currently coming off, followed by his shoes—sneakers, not flip-flops like she had chosen—and then his sweat pants. Becky had always made a point not to look at her family members when they were shedding clothes or putting them back on; some glimpses of nudity were unavoidable, but they all tried to give each other privacy. On the rare occasions she had shifted with some of the werewolves she had met in North America, they had always shifted in separate areas out of politeness. This was the first time she would see the process from beginning to end.

_No, I won't._ Becky shuffled back a bit, still watching Seth rotate his shoulders back and forth. _I have to leave._ If she was quick, if she left _that very moment_ , Seth would be in the midst of his transformation when he finally noticed her, too preoccupied to follow. She could start forcing herself back mid-run, pull on her shirt and pants, and drive off before he even knew. . . . 

_But if I can smell him from here, he's going to notice me as soon as he turns. . . ._ When he crouched down, looking like a sprinter ready to jump off the blocks, Becky allowed herself one last look before taking off.

"Wait!" Seth's voice was strangled by the change, his human throat already half-changed, but it was clear enough that Becky could tell it was more curious than demanding. She didn't let her slow her down, though, especially when she felt the familiar warm shiver of energy that came from another werewolf transforming in close proximity. Like natural wolves, werewolves were social creatures; if one was having difficulty transforming, their packmates could aid their transition with their energy.

_Be slow, be slow._ It was a futile wish, she knew. In human form, Seth was strong enough to last through Iron Man matches, so his wolf form was likely no different. She could only hope she'd had enough of a head start that she could reach her bag. _Then what?_ Stopping to change and get dressed would waste time. Running with her tote in her mouth would slow her down and give Seth time to track her. That was where strength in numbers came into effect: If she'd had a pack with her, one wolf could lead him away while giving her a chance to escape. 

_Arms._ Becky forced the thought through her body when it resisted. _Fingers_. She thought of only human things as she ran, dredging up the energy to change back while in motion. It was risky, but it felt like her best bet. Of course, if anyone else happened to be around, they were going to see a naked woman running in the forest, but since most humans' brains couldn't process the change, at least she only had to worry about being embarrassed, not having her secret blown.

By the time she reached her tree, Becky had fully changed back to her human form, stumbling as she adjusted to the abruptly different legs. Seth was still following her, though, so she scrambled up the tree, hissing in pain as the rough bark scratched at her bare skin. She was going to have some interesting abrasions in some very awkward places tomorrow, but that was tomorrow's problem. For now, she concentrated on finding a branch she could sit on, leaning against the trunk of the tree as she caught her breath.

Any hopes that Seth would have lost her trail were dashed when she caught a flash of fur down below. His coat was a mixture of rusty reds and dark browns, and the urge to see it more fully almost made her push a branch aside. She stayed quiet, though, gingerly pulling her shirt out of the tote and wriggling into it; she could forgo the bra and panties if she had to, and even the flip-flops, but driving naked was a surefire way to draw unwanted attention. Sap and sweat clung to her skin, but she didn't dare open a bottle of water to give herself a quick wash; that would all have to wait until she got to the hotel.

_How did I not know?_ Werewolves generally smelled different around a full moon, and she had seen Seth wrestle on plenty of full-moon nights; she should have been able to register the unique scent. As she pondered that and tried to pull on her yoga pants without losing her balance, the tote teetered perilously, and she barely managed to catch it.

A long, low, plaintive howl cut through the dark, one she knew well from her youth. It was the equivalent of a child saying _Come play with me!_ or a teenager calling his friends to ask why they were late. _Where are you?_ it said. _Why aren't you here? Where did you go?_ The sentiments were all similar in a wolf's howl, but her brain parsed them out. Seth had been raised by his mother and step-father; if his werewolf gene was paternal like hers was, he might never have had the comfort of a pack. Of course he would jump at the chance to interact with another of his kind.

But Seth was also a darling of the McMahons, while Becky still struggled to get on the pre-show of pay-per-views. Being outed would destroy her career; he might have to take full-moon nights off, but he would bounce back soon enough. Still, her heart clenched every time he howled—not out of fear or even pity, but a sense of longing. Her family was never far from her thoughts around the full moon, and just hearing another werewolf howl—it was different than a regular wolf's, and they tended to regard her with a grudging respect—made her homesick. As she wrapped her arms around the tree's trunk to keep her balance, she felt tears prick her eyes.

Seth kept circling and howling, confused at how her trail had suddenly stopped, and he was starting to approach the trunk itself when a car door opened—and then another. "Hello? Anyone out there?" It was a woman's voice, clear and confident; Becky immediately envisioned a police officer or someone else in uniform, but she didn't dare move a branch to confirm her guess.

"Are you in trouble?" That was a man's voice, friendly enough but firm. "Do you need help? We have some gas if you ran out." Clearly they thought some tourist had taken a wrong turn, got lost, and needed assistance.

Seth froze as soon as he heard them and then took off back towards his SUV, but Becky caught a glimpse of him looking back forlornly; he hadn't wanted to give up on the trail or his serenade, but he didn't want to be discovered either. "Let's go, Fran. Maybe they started walking for help," the man said. It sounded like he was only metres away from the tree Becky was in, and she willed herself still.

"But it's so far in either direction. We would have seen them if they'd gone north," Fran protested. Her voice got quieter, though, and Becky angled herself just enough that she could see the couple walking away. She chanced grabbing her tote and clambering halfway down the tree. If they bothered looking back, they would have caught a glimpse of her shirt through the branches, but they both got into an SUV and drove in the direction Seth had gone.

_Good._ Shoeless, Becky quickly scrambled down to the forest floor and ran for her car, rummaging for her keys in the tote on the way. She usually left one of the rear doors unlocked in case she had to make a hasty getaway, but she would still need the keys to drive. Fighting the urge to look back was harder than she expected, though. Seth's howl had sounded so sad, so incomplete. Becky rarely howled to herself, mostly because she was used to the call-and-answer exchange of a pack. Hearing his cry and not replying felt like a betrayal somehow, a violation of her nature.

After she got in the car, Becky tossed the tote in the passenger seat, went into reverse, and did a rough turn to go back the way she came. She knew she must be a mess and the sudden change back to human was going to leave her depleted far faster than she liked, but she needed to get away from the scene and _fast_.

Her breath started to come in great heaving gulps, making her ribs ache, but she managed to make it back to the hotel without hitting anything. Luckily it was a hotel used to celebrity clientele, so it had a convenient rear door that celebrity guests' keycards could access. After she parked, put on her flip-flops, and grabbed both her bags, she shamelessly used the entrance she usually avoided on principle. All the luck that hadn't been with her in the forest came in one great rush: She didn't encounter anyone on the way to the elevator, she was able to ride up to her floor alone, and the glimpse she caught of herself in the hall mirror made her just look run down, not harried and exhausted—at least if you didn't take her eyes into account. They had gone dark with shame and uncertainty, and Becky avoided the mirrors the rest of the way to her suite.

The door was the last hurdle, the last thing she needed to put between herself and the world, and once she had it closed and locked behind her, Becky slumped to the floor, letting her bags fall where they may. It could have been mere minutes that passed or more than an hour, but Becky only moved when her phone rang. Then she struggled to sit up and dig in her main bag, but it went quiet by the time she found it. Becky breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was just Charlotte again, not Seth. _Sorry, Char,_ she typed out. _Super tired. Talk tomorrow over breakfast?_

As she waited for Charlotte's reply, Becky staggered to her feet and peeled off her post-shift clothes, stuffing them in the tote. She would have loved a long, proper shower, but at that moment, she needed sleep more than anything. Charlotte's answer came in as Becky was setting out her toiletries for the morning: _Sure thing. If you need anything tonight, babe, just let me know, ok?_ Becky sent back a thumbs-up and hoped Charlotte would leave it at that. Then she went to the shower, just using the spray to rinse off the sweat and sap; a few pine needles and leaves tumbled out of her hair, and she did her best to brush it out after she dried off.

On full-moon nights, her dreams were usually in wolf-vision, the colours and depth different than her human eyes were used to. That night, however, the sounds were what she remembered most, Seth's mournful howl and the silence that answered him.


	2. Chapter 2

Seth had heard people say they couldn't believe their eyes, but for him, his nose was usually the problem. Even in human form, his sense of smell was stronger than the average person's, and he had never really learned how to develop it as well as his cousins had. Of course, they all had the advantage of growing up in a family pack. He, on the other hand, had just started finding his half-siblings and cousins within the past year, and any dreams he'd had of a big happy pack were quickly dashed. The relatives he found on his father's side might have been willing to answer the occasional phone call or text exchange about a werewolf matter—heavily coded, of course, in case a human happened to see or overhear—but they had never once invited him to a full-moon shift and any time he had tried to ask, subtly or otherwise, he was never given a definitive answer. The general, if unspoken, consensus was that if his biological father couldn't be bothered to teach him, it wasn't their responsibility to take up the mantle either.

For the most part, having never had one, Seth didn't miss being part of a pack. With the nomadic lifestyle of a wrestler, he wouldn't have been around to contribute much anyway. Packs were supposed to be like a family, and he had vowed that whenever he started a family of his own, they were going to be his first priority. Right now, fulfilling his dreams of wrestling came first, so it was easy to push everything else to the side, or at least that's what he thought. Then he had encountered another werewolf yesterday and suddenly his human thoughts were just as tangled and intense as his wolf ones.

He hadn't planned on stopping in that particular forest, but since the event had been relocated, he was forced to improvise. He hadn't even meant to stop in that specific stretch, but he had seen the car pulled over and the angle was awkward. If someone had just pulled off to the side to go for a hike, a piss, or a quickie in the forest, Seth would have thought they would have parked more carefully. When he had gotten out of his rental SUV to see if he could spot anyone, he thought he caught a whiff of a familiar scent, but with the full moon calling, he couldn't take the time to try identifying it. Instead he made a note of the make, model, and licence plate of the vehicle and then drove on further ahead, giving himself a healthy amount of space from the abandoned car, and headed out to welcome his wolf.

Except there was already a wolf there—a werewolf, not a natural one like he occasionally encountered in the more remote areas. He had tried to chase her down—he was absolutely positive it was a female werewolf, mostly because of the size—but he had lost her trail not far from the car. The arrival of two curious humans made him temporarily retreat, and by the time they had left and it was safe to resume investigating, the other car was gone as well, the female werewolf's scent fading by the second. It held a peculiar note, though, a distinctive scent he was used to smelling every couple of weeks backstage: hair dye. Specifically vegan hair dye, the one Becky used to get her trademark fiery orange locks.

At first he thought it was on his shirt, perhaps. He had talked briefly with her earlier in the evening and meant to catch up with her later, but Natalya said something about her not feeling well. Yet her scent was in the air, fresh though fading. He had tracked it as far as he could in several directions: back to the spot where he had spotted the wolf and completed his own shift, up the tree where the scent trail seemed to have stopped, down to where the car had been haphazardly parked. The singular scent lingered along each of the three trails, along with others he associated both with her and wrestling.

_She can't be a werewolf. Wouldn't I have noticed before?_ He had thought it all the way back to his SUV, which he drove to an abandoned barn so he could have a power nap. It lingered in his head all the way to the hotel, where he asked the desk clerk if a distressed red-headed woman had arrived; he was given an evasive non-answer that was full of corporate jargon like 'client confidentiality'. When he caught a hint of her scent in the elevator, that question slowly fell away only to be replaced by another: _Why hadn't she noticed me?_ All of it disintegrated as soon as he stumbled into his suite, set the alarm on his phone, and fell face first onto his bed.

Seth meant to get up early and check the parking lot for the car he had seen in the forest, but he had slept through the initial alarm and the first reminder fifteen minutes later. Promising himself a nice long shower and power breakfast later, he hurried down to the main floor and into the parking lot, but there was nothing matching the abandoned car. _Maybe it wasn't her,_ Seth thought as he took the elevator back up to his room. _Other people use that hair dye. Other people wrestle._ But how many did both of those _and_ would smell like Becky? It wasn't likely. Even to a werewolf's keen nose, there were only so many truly distinct scents in the world, and when he had smelled that particular combination, his mental image of _Becky_ —red hair, Irish accent, great laugh, fun, friend—had flared in his head. Even after he had the luxurious shower he had promised himself and more to eat for breakfast than he should, he still couldn't shake the disconnect of such a familiar scent in such an unexpected place.

It bothered him all throughout his drive to the next event, and even though Roman must have figured something was wrong, he gamely avoided any potentially problematic topics—generally girlfriends and the McMahons. "You need me to drive, man?" Roman asked, glancing up from his phone. "I actually got a proper sleep last night, so I'm good to go."

Seth appreciated the gesture, but shook his head. The day after the full moon, he found he regained control faster if he had to focus on tasks like driving. If his mind was left to wander, it was too easy to sliding into an in between state. This time, though, there was the added danger of something about Becky slipping out. No one on the roster knew about his lycanthropy—except perhaps Becky now; he wasn't sure how much she would have pieced together—and as much as it pained him to keep his nature a secret from one of his closest friends, he knew it was for the best. "Nah, man. I'm good. But thanks. You can get the next leg." _Maybe_. Even on his clearest, most human-minded days, Seth liked being the one in the driver's seat.

Roman reached over and tapped Seth's hand, almost white-knuckled with its tight grip. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Seth took one hand off the wheel during a straightaway and flexed it a bit before switching and stretching out the other.

Laughing, Roman leaned back in the passenger seat, stretching out his legs. "Must be the full moon, man. It's been fucking with everybody. Someone caught Charlotte and Andrade making out backstage, so I guess they're a thing now. Becky was sick—"

"She was?" Seth feigned confusion. "She seemed fine when I talked with her last night."

Roman shrugged one shoulder as he reached for his coffee. "That's what I thought. I chatted with her for a bit right after we got to the arena. But she must have a stomach bug or something, because I saw her leave not long after her spot with Nattie."

"Hope she's okay." Seth kept looking straight ahead, trying to sketch out a timeline in his head. If Becky had left not long after her spot, that would have given her enough time to reach that section of the forest and then shift and go for a run. He had left a while after she did—Roman had caught a ride with Drew—but she wasn't a confident driver, so she wouldn't have sped or taken the shortcuts he had. _Circumstantial evidence,_ he could imagine his mother saying. "With WrestleMania coming up, this is a bad time to get sick."

"I'm sure she is," Roman said. "Probably just a twenty-four hour thing."

When they arrived at the arena, Seth lingered in the parking lot with his bag. "Go on and head in," he told Roman. "I thought I recognized my friend's car back there. I just want to go check it out." It wasn't entirely a lie. "I won't be long."

Roman nodded. "Cool. See you in there."

After Roman was out of sight, Seth walked back through the parking area, the wheels on his bag rattling every time they bounced over a crack or a piece of gravel. Normally the clatter annoyed him to the point of wanting to launch his bag into the stratosphere, but he was too busy reciting the make, model, and license plate he had committed to memory. He found and dismissed four likely contenders before he happened upon the right one—and peering in the passenger's side window, he noticed a few strands of flame-orange hair clinging to the head rest. "It _was_ her," he thought, dazed.

Walking back towards the entrance, Seth wasn't sure what to think. Should he feel betrayed that Becky hadn't noticed what he was—or even worse, that she had noticed and didn't want to share her secret in kind, share the knowledge she had inevitably gained from her family? He knew for a fact that she had a close bond with both her parents, so no matter which side her lycanthropy came through, Seth couldn't imagine that Becky had been left to her own devices when it came to learning how to be a werewolf. She would have had a pack, allies—people to shift with and ask questions of and take solace in. Until she moved over to Canada and then later to the States, she likely never faced a single full moon alone. 

He tried to dredge up some bitterness to wallow in, but the further Seth walked into the backstage area, he more he realized he couldn't blame Becky. Even if she had known, one of the key tenets of being a werewolf was secrecy; even he knew that. He could hardly be mad at her for guarding not only her own safety, but that of her family. She also hadn't exposed his nature, which was just as important. "Hey, Nattie." Seth slowed as he passed Natalya talking with some of the NXT women who had been brought up for a match with Nia. "Have you seen Becky? Is she feeling any better today?"

Natalya nodded. "Yeah, she was going to Catering when I saw her a few minutes ago. She looked a lot better, so hopefully it was just a flu or something."

Seth nodded and hurried to Catering, not bothering to drop off his bag. He had only missed Becky by a matter of seconds in the forest and he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. His senses were still heightened enough from the full moon that he heard her breath catch when she spotted him, and when she tried to quickly end her chat with Samoa Joe, Seth stepped up before she could leave. "Hey, Becks. Got a minute?"

Samoa Joe smirked. "My my, isn't our girl is popular today? That's a good thing, Irish. Means you're in people's heads. Go ahead. We can chat more later."

Becky looked like she wished she could go in reverse, but Samoa Joe headed off to sit with A.J. Styles, leaving her to face Seth alone. "Hey. What's up? I should really get something to eat. . . ." She gestured vaguely at the tables of food.

"Same. I find I'm always hungrier around a full moon. You?" Seth was mostly watching her eyes, which were darting back and forth looking for an escape route, but he heard her heart lurch like a missed drum beat in a song.

Becky attempted a laugh, but it sounded brittle. "Isn't that a pseudo-science thing? Just like how the emergency rooms are always busier on full-moon nights and—"

"I saw your car there." Seth leaned close to say it, more for privacy than anything, but he was sure she would have heard him if he had just mouthed the words.

Becky's eyes went wide. "What are you doi—"

"Let's get some food," Seth suggested, "and I'll drop off my bag, and then we'll talk." 

Becky nodded shakily, doing her best to keep up friendly chatter with anyone who approached her at the self-serve tables, and she put a travel lid on her coffee so it couldn't slosh over onto her shaking hand. When Seth paused at the men's locker room door, though, she rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to run off, okay?"

"Not like last night?" Seth noticed that her gaze dropped when he set his plate beside her. "Just give me a minute." As soon as he entered the locker room, he was greeted from all sides, but he took his phone from his bag and excused himself. "Sorry, guys. Gotta return a call I missed." He half-expected Becky to be long gone when he stepped back into the corridor, but she was still there, spearing food with her plastic fork but not really eating it. "So where can we talk?"

"Outside might be best," Becky suggested, gesturing to the bustle all around them. So close to the beginning of the show, crew members were everywhere, double-checking electrical connections and running safety tests on equipment. "But it could be chilly, so just let me get my—"

"Take mine." Seth shrugged out of his hoodie and handed it to her before grabbing his plate. "Okay, let's go."

Seth was trying to stay focussed, almost business-like, but the smile that lifted Becky's cheeks as soon as she shrugged into his hoodie and zipped it up melted his resolve a bit. "This is really nice." She reflexively dipped her head and inhaled through her nose, then froze. 

"It's okay," Seth said softly. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

Becky squared her shoulders and started walking faster, heading for an exit that would lead out to the arena's dumpsters, not any of the parking areas. Neither of them would appreciate the aromas, but it would mean they wouldn't have to worry about being spotted by fans either. As she tossed her hair over her shoulder, Seth caught another layer of scent: the post-shift smell that was like a blend of petrichor and, strangely, lemons. It had confused him the first few times he had smelled it on himself until he made the connection. After looking around to make sure no one was nearby, Becky rounded on him. "What do you want? I'm not worth blackmailing. If that's your angle, you'd be better off finding someone who saw Charlotte giving Andrade a handjob last night."

Seth flinched a bit. This wasn't going as planned. He had anticipated a bit of apprehension, a little mistrust, but then eventual camaraderie—maybe even wonder that they didn't have to be alone on full-moon nights anymore. "I—I don't follow. I don't want anything . . . well, maybe some advice, but—" He stopped and looked at Becky closely, her face partially veiled in steam from her coffee. "Did you know? Before last night, I mean."

He could see a dozen different lies flickering in her eyes, making her lips twitch and purse. "Seth, I can't just . . . talk about this. I have my family to think about."

_And I don't?_ The unspoken barb didn't sting long. If his paternal family couldn't be bothered to help him beyond the occasional phone call or text, he was hardly going to put them at the top of his priority list. "Just answer me." It came out more pleading than he wanted, but he let it stand. Maybe he was reading too much into Becky's posture, the way her gaze couldn't settle on anything for long, but he thought she might feel as lonely as he did—probably even more so; missing something could be worse than never having it in the first place.

"No. I didn't know." She sounded vaguely ashamed by that. "I should have, but I was on SmackDown for so longand I usually plot out my shift sites, but—"

"Same. But the venue change meant we needed to find a new place." Seth stopped suddenly. He hadn't meant to say _we_. Just because they shared a condition didn't mean they were instantly connected. Becky either didn't notice the slip or didn't mind, because she didn't comment. "Was that why you were sick yesterday?" he asked next.

Becky nodded, finally succumbing to her hunger and nibbling on a carrot. The arena staff had assembled a makeshift bench from old crates and boards from a pallet, and she sat gingerly on it. "Yeah. Normally I'm fine until after the show, but I was so worried about finding a place. . . . " She stole a glance over at him as he sat beside her. "Have you met many other werewolves?"

Seth shook his head. "Just some members of my dad's family, but I don't have anything to do with them. They've . . . never been inclined to include me, so I stopped trying a while back."

"I'm sorry." Becky's posture softened somewhat as she sipped at her coffee. "I grew up with my dad and my brother and cousins; other family too. I always had a pack. It made leaving that much harder, but I needed to wrestle and there were no opportunities in Ireland, so I had to go. I've meet a few random werewolves here and there," she added, voice almost indifferent, "but shifting with them is almost lonelier than doing it solo." She stopped so suddenly that Seth knew there was more she wanted to say, but something made her hesitate. Fear? Embarrassment? He couldn't tell. Her post-shift energy was starting to tangle with his and it was making it hard to focus on anything but his breathing and hers, slowly synchronizing in the deepening dark.

"Why did you run from me?" Seth's voice was small, but he didn't hate so much this time. Now it fit the moment, quiet and earnest. "I wouldn't have hurt you."

Becky shot him a quick look. "Don't say that. You don't know that for sure. You never know what might trigger you. That's why I always go alone. I could probably tell Charlotte and Sasha and Bayley, but I don't want to risk hurting any of them." Then she relaxed a bit. "But I ran because . . . because you startled me. I heard someone call out before. Was that you?"

Seth nodded. "I saw the car pulled over and thought someone might need help." His head dipped as he added, "And I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to have an unintentional audience either."

"I was running and I heard you," Becky continued, "so I went to investigate. But I was confused, because I could smell . . . well, _you_. So I thought Heyman might have sent someone to check on me. But then. . . ." She stayed silent for a few moments. "Then when those other people came, I took advantage of their distraction and took off. I had no idea what to say. I still don't. This . . . isn't a conversation I'm used to having. In my family, we're always told it's a possibility right from when we're young so we know what signs to watch for. Some people get the gene, others don't; there doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to it."

"What's it like to shift with a pack?" Seth turned towards her—gaze, body, focus, _everything_ —and she blushed a bit under the sudden attention. "Or even just one or two others, but . . . not like those werewolves you met here. What's it like with people you know and trust?"

"It's . . . the way it's supposed to be." Becky drew her hands up into Seth's sleeves and he couldn't help but think about how her scent would linger on the fabric when she gave the hoodie back. "I don't know a better way to say it. I mean, shifting solo works; it gets the job done and then you don't have to worry until the next full moon. But it's like the difference between eating whatever food's available because you're hungry and having your favourite meal in the world."

Seth edged a bit closer. Becky still looked vaguely cold—he knew they should go inside soon anyway, before people noticed they were gone and, after the Charlotte and Andrade debacle, gone _together_ —but there was an aura of energy around her that called to him. "Is the next full moon by a show?" He looked it up on his phone while Becky squirmed, clearly knowing what he was going to ask. "No, it's on a Wednesday. I thought maybe we could—"

"Shared shifts with non-family can be . . . awkward. You know, the nakedness and everything." Becky didn't elaborate, but Seth wondered if she craved contact after shifting back. He always did, to the point he would occasionally ask Roman or Dean if they wanted to do some late-night practice just so he could grapple.

"I'll be a perfect gentleman, I promise. And don't say _Don't say that_ ," he added quickly. "I know how to control myself."

Becky actually seemed to be considering it, to his surprise. "It's months until we go back to the UK," she noted. "It would be nice to shift with someone before then. But if it's on a non-event night, we'd have to meet up, and if anyone got pictures of us together, they're going to assume—"

"We're friends," Seth pointed out. Maybe that was what made it all sting the most: He had considered Becky a friend for years, and he had never even suspected. "We hang out. We've worked out together. We'll just have to do something normal during the day, like go to a movie or hit the gym."

Draining the last of her coffee, Becky stood abruptly. "I'll think about it and let you know. We should really get back inside."

"Yeah." Since they were already by the dumpsters, Seth tossed their garbage directly in the bin before they went back in the arena. If anyone noticed their disappearance, no one mentioned it. Before they reached the main area, though, Becky shrugged off his hoodie and held it out. "It's fine," he told her. "You can wear it until you're on."

But Becky shook her head. "People will talk." There was a strange note in her voice—not quite sadness, but something from the same neighbourhood. "And if I agree, then we want to give people as little to talk about as possible so they don't jump to conclusions, right?"

"Right." Before Seth could say a more meaningful goodbye, Charlotte appeared, looking frazzled, and she swept Becky away in a tide of ranting. Seth watched them both go until they detoured to Catering and then he headed towards Creative; he still hadn't read his notes for the night, but he knew he had a match against Sami Zayn. As he pulled his hoodie back on, waves of scent washed over him: the stale chill from outside the arena, a bit of coffee from when Becky's hands were shaking, the post-shift he now knew wasn't exclusive to him. More than that, though, he could smell Becky—the hair dye as well as her shampoo, her sweat, all the hundreds of little things that combined to make her personal scent. It made him think of how she had instinctively smelled the hoodie as she put it on, and he was so busy trying to read into her scents that he didn't realize Sami Zayn was calling him until he was near enough to touch. "Hey! Hey, sorry." Seth rolled his shoulders and straightened up. "Just got lost in thought for a moment. I was headed to Creative. What do they have for us?"

"It looked like you were smelling your own clothes." Then Sami laughed. "Is it laundry day for you?"

Seth chuckled too, following Sami to the office. "Yeah, as soon as I get home." Stuffing his hands into the pockets of the hoodie, though, Seth knew he might leave this particular one until next week, after Becky's scent had faded away.


	3. Chapter 3

Becky considered herself blessed that she had a dreamer and a doer for parents. When it came to tough career advice, she usually went to her mother, the pragmatic one, but when it came to werewolf matters, her father was the obvious choice. Not only was he the one who passed along the gene, but when it came to shifting and pack politics, he suddenly developed the ability to balance practicality with personal desires. After Seth had asked her to shift together on the next full moon, Becky had tried to sort through her conflicted feelings on her own, but since she couldn't go to Charlotte or any of her other friends like she normally would, she had to think of a way to broach the subject with her father.

Long before she called her father, Becky had decided not to mention Seth at all. Her father had met him briefly backstage during a United Kingdom tour, but they weren't well acquainted; he knew that she and Seth were good friends, however, and she didn't want that skewing his advice. "Hi, Dad." Becky's eyes had shut the instant her father answered, and she felt herself relax. "How are you? Have time for an astronomy question?" It was a good way to ask if he was able to speak freely about werewolf matters without using some ridiculously obvious code phrase.

"Ah, Rebecca." When he said her full name, it was like he somehow added an extra musical syllable and she loved to hear it, even when it meant she was about to get a lecture. "I'm well. How are you? Yes, I saw that the last full moon was on a taping night. Did you have any trouble?" He always made a point of cross-referencing her wrestling events with the lunar cycle.

Becky said a silent prayer of thanks for the segue. She wasn't sure how she would have brought it up on her own, but maybe now that he had, she could make it sound more casual. "The venue changed at the last minute because of a tornado," she reported, "so I had to scramble to find a new shifting site. But on the up side, I ended up learning that there's another werewolf in the company."

Her father's surprise was palpable. "Really? Is it a new hire? Wouldn't you have noticed before?"

"You'd think so. I'm not sure how I missed it. I guess I'm so focussed on full-moon nights," Becky confided, "that I tune everything else out."

"Fair enough, I suppose." Her father cleared his throat. "Is it another wrestler? Anyone I've met?"

Even though she had already decided not to reveal Seth's secret, she still had a moment of hesitation. Who he was to her did have bearing on deciding whether to shift with him, but if things went badly, she didn't want her father to hold it against Seth either. "I don't want to say," she hedged. "You know I love you, Dad, and I trust you, but I didn't get their permission to share their identity."

"I understand." Becky could hear him take a sip of tea. "So how did the discovery unfold? Did you smell them after they'd shifted?"

"No. We ended up going to the same place to shift, actually. I got there first and it seemed safe, but then I noticed a car so I went to investigate." It wasn't entirely true, but she didn't think the details she was leaving out were vital. It wasn't like Seth had stalked her or threatened her. "I took off as soon as I recognized them, but then we ran into each other at the next event and eventually talked."

"I see." During conversations like these, Becky's father was almost like part priest, part therapist, both giving guidance and pointing out details. Becky had hated it when she was younger, but now that she knew Seth had grown up with hardly any direction at all, she knew she should appreciate it more. "And how do you feel about this? Do you think you can trust them?"

Becky nodded to herself. "Yeah, I think so. They've been with WWE since NXT started, and they've always been nice to me, so I don't think they'd expose my secret now. They want to shift and run together on the next full moon, though, and I'm not sure I should."

This time her father's surprise was more muted. "Why not? You said you felt like you could trust them. I know how much you miss shifting with a pack and granted, shifting with one other wolf isn't quite the same, but surely it's better than being alone."

Becky paused for a moment, shutting her eyes. Her father had always had the benefit of a family pack; Ireland was comparatively small for a country, so it wasn't difficult or unheard of for kin to gather once a month. She wasn't sure he even knew what it was like to have to shift alone, to always be wary of your surroundings and where you left your clothes. "I know. I just worry that it'll be awkward. You know, the whole nakedness thing."

"Ah." The length of her father's _Ah_ was always directly proportional to how much time he needed to form his response; this one was abrupt, a mere pop of air, so he clearly thought he knew something. "It's someone you find attractive, then? I can't imagine you're worried about them taking pictures and leaking them to the media. Wolf pictures would be more disastrous than nudes."

It wasn't something Becky had ever imagined her father saying, but she could see his point. Several WWE superstars had been the victims of photo leaks—Seth included—and most of them had weathered the storm, at least professionally; she knew it took a toll on their minds and their sense of security, though. "I guess. No, I'm more worried about . . . you know, the aftermath. Wanting to cuddle and all that." It was fine around family: Everyone would just throw on a robe or oversized t-shirt and relax for a bit, leaning into each other for contact, for connection. With Seth, though, she was worried she would want to take the next logical step. Her first exposure to sex was happening upon a post-shift couple fucking in the forest, far off from the rest of the pack; she had been wandering around, looking for neat leaves for her science project, and when she heard groans and screams, she assumed someone was hurt. To this day, she was glad she investigated rather than running back to tell the others; if she'd done that, the elders would still be laughing at her naivety every time the pack gathered. _Do you remember that time that Craig and Niamh were going at it in the forest and our Rebecca thought someone was hurt so she came running?_

"Well, that depends on a lot of things, Rebecca," her father began. "If it's someone you're attracted to _enough_ , you at least know you don't have to worry about pregnancy or disease." Whether it was some genetic quirk or a happy coincidence, werewolves weren't fertile on full-moon nights, so even if hormones took over and they had unprotected sex, they didn't have to worry about an unintended pregnancy. "But those aren't the only burdens that come with sex, of course. If you . . . lapsed with this person, are they the type who is likely to hold it against you?"

Becky thought for a long moment. Judging from some of Seth's looks and comments, she got the impression that he would be open to a little play time after they shifted back, but she didn't want to assume. He had just ended a multi-year relationship, so he might be looking for simple—but rebound sex brought a whole parade of troubles with it. "I don't think so, but I . . . don't want to get into the habit. I'm trying to keep my wolf life and my human life separate as best I can."

Her father tut-tutted. "That's not always the best way, sweetheart. They aren't separate. They're both yours. They're both _you_. The wolf isn't something you tamp down for twenty-odd days a month and let out at the full moon. It's always with you, just like your human self—your memories, your feelings, your morals—is carried with you when you run as a wolf."

"I didn't mean—" Becky stopped herself. Without revealing Seth as the wolf, it was too difficult to explain all the intricacies she had to consider. "So you're saying I should shift with them and run with them, then?"

"Yes." Her father's voice was affectionately firm. "Wolves are social, Rebecca, just like humans. You have plenty of human friends in your life. Right now, you have a lack of wolf ones, at least nearby. Give it a chance. If you get along, excellent. If not, it doesn't sound like this person will be a threat. If they become a problem, well, you have a pack and we have allies abroad if need be."

Becky laughed, some of her tension draining from her shoulders. "I don't think a mob hit will be quite necessary, Dad, but I appreciate the back-up. Well, I should probably call them to let them know so we can get planning."

"Good luck, sweetheart. I hope you have a good run with them. Call me after and let me know, will you?" Her father's voice sounded so hopeful that Becky almost felt guilty for not being completely open and honest with him.

"I will. I love you, Dad." After saying their goodbyes in Irish, Becky disconnected and immediately called Seth so she couldn't chicken out. "Seth? Are you able to talk freely?" _We'll have to develop a code if this works out,_ Becky thought as she waited for his reply.

"Hey, Becks. Yeah, I'm alone. What's up?" Seth sounded like he was trying to play down his eagerness, like a teenager tucking in his shirt in a hurry so he didn't get reprimanded at work.

"If you still want to shift together on the next moon, I'm up for it," Becky replied. "We should pick a code phrase to ask if it's safe to talk about wolf things, though. I'll usually ask my dad if he has time to answer an astronomy question; if he says no, I know he can't talk about werewolf matters safely."

Becky could practically picture Seth's emphatic nod; she could certainly hear the _shush_ of his shirt collar as his head bobbed. "That's good with me. As long as you don't expect me to know anything about actual astronomy. So . . . any place you'd like to go? Since it's a Wednesday, we don't have to worry about a show. . . ."

A bit of her guilt rekindled: if Becky hadn't needed to leave that RAW early, Charlotte might not have been caught backstage with Andrade. "The weekend house shows are in Washington, right? Why don't we just pick some place near them? Then it would explain why we're renting hotel rooms there," Becky pointed out, adding a hint of emphasis to the plural, "and if anything weird would happen, we'd already be close to the venue. The hotel would probably be happy to tack on a couple mid-week nights since those aren't popular."

"Sure. Let's try that." Seth sounded like he was fumbling with some papers. "Um, you call yours and I'll call mine and we can start planning in an hour?" 

"Sure. Talk soon." After Becky set her phone down, she took a deep breath before trying to find her hotel reservations. She transformed every full moon—she had to or she would get sick and eventually die as the wolf's essence devoured her from the inside out—but she had the feeling that this one was going to change her in ways that had nothing to do with how many feet she had on the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

In the days leading up to the full moon, Becky's emotions seemed to have their own tides, ebbing and flowing in strange directions and leaving the shores of her mind littered with half-formed thoughts and worries. At the preceding RAW, Seth had actually been impressively discreet, only pulling her aside once to confirm her hotel details; he was staying at a somewhat fancier chain just down the road and promised to pick her up. "Thanks again," he said as he started to step away. "This means a lot to me."

"No worries." Maybe she should have let on how much it meant to her too, but Becky wanted an exit strategy, and emotions had no part in those. Maybe she would utterly enjoy shifting with Seth, but if it was in any way dangerous—if she couldn't maintain her control—then she had to be ready to step away. Charlotte had asked if she had any plans before the weekend, and Becky muttered something vague about visiting friends in Vancouver, since it wasn't far from their Washington events. 

When Wednesday finally rolled around, though, and she was waiting for Seth to pick her up, Becky's brain decided to second-guess _everything_ , from the loose top she brought along for her post-shift outfit—was it long enough?—to whether she should eat a large meal and fortify herself or keep it small so she didn't give her nerves even more ammunition. She made a point of wearing an outfit similar enough in style and colour to her post-shift clothes that only a keen, purposeful eye would notice all the differences, but she would still be able to sit in a decent restaurant without looking like she had just come from a gym. "My bag's just in the back seat," Seth said when he pulled up. "Just throw yours back there."

Becky was a bit surprised to see a duffle bag there, all zipped up. "Don't you find zippers difficult afterwards?" she asked as she set her bag inside and shut the rear door. She actually had to hop up to get into the rental SUV, but she appreciated the higher vantage point it gave her.

Seth just shrugged. "I figured it was safer, I guess. Made it less likely that anything would fall out. I usually just sort of sprawl out for a while after anyway, so by the time I'm ready to change and go, I've got my dexterity back."

The thought of Seth _just sort of sprawling out for a while_ —notably naked—didn't do much for Becky's nerves. "Oh, okay," she said, mildly as she could. "We used to do that when I was younger, but we always had blankets—"

"Brought one," Seth interjected with a grin. His expression sobered a bit when he realized how that could be interpreted and he quickly added, "Just for resting. Not . . . you know."

"I know." Becky forced herself to stare out of the side window. They had both chosen hotels not far from major roads and the highway, so it didn't take long to reach a forested area, and after that it was mere minutes until the trees were so thickly clustered Becky wasn't sure they would be able to run between them. "Wow. It's beautiful here."

"I know. I figured Daniel Bryan would know a few good places, so I asked him for recommendations for hiking trails." When Becky was about to protest, Seth added, "He said this spot was gorgeous, but the paths got overgrown really quickly in the off-season, so it wasn't a good bet." Then his mouth quirked in a smile. "Which makes it great for us."

"And potentially bears and regular wolves and all sorts of other animals," Becky pointed out, "but they probably know enough to avoid the roads, so if we keep the road in sight, we should be okay." She didn't want Seth to think she didn't appreciate the research he did, so she added, "It looks amazing, though. I wonder if we'll even fit between some of those trees."

"Only one way to find out." Seth stopped a few minutes later and pulled some papers out of the glove compartment. "Daniel also recommended putting some signs in the windows if I didn't want people interrupting my photo opportunities."

Becky took one from him and read it silently. _NOT IN DISTRESS!_ it began in big bold letters. _Just photographing local trees and birds. Thanks for your concern!_ "Good idea. Then we we're less likely to have a repeat of the Good Samaritans from last full moon." 

"Exactly." Seth taped one message to the inside of the windshield and took the other with him when he went to get his bag. "I'll open up the back so you can put your purse in there."

"Thanks." Becky grabbed her tote, which looked downright flimsy compared to Seth's duffle bag, and walked around to the back, holding out her purse. It felt weird to be away from her cell phone, but she didn't want to risk losing anything important in the forest. 

They were both silent as they walked into the woods. Even so close to the road, it wasn't an easy trek, the trees brushing their shoulders on both sides. It wasn't long before Seth almost had to walk sideways. "Stop here?" he suggested.

"I think we'd better." As Becky opened her tote, something else came to mind: with the trees so close, she and Seth would be disrobing—and transforming—almost on top of each other. "I can fit in that gap," she offered, "if you want some space."

But Seth already had his good shirt off and was folding it up. Then he spread the blanket as best he could and stacked his post-shift gear on top of it: loose t-shirt, sweat pants, an old smart phone, and two bottles of water. Once he put his good shirt at the bottom of the bag, he started to untie his shoes, and Becky quickly glanced away, focussing on her own bag. Shoes off led to pants off, and she had told herself she wouldn't stare. Like Seth, she unpacked her tote on a corner of the blanket and peeled off her good clothes and shoes, tucking them at the bottom of the tote. From the density of the trees, she didn't think they would have to stow their bags up very high to make them safe.

Once she was naked, Becky pulled some of her hair over her shoulders to make herself feel a little less exposed when she turned around. _It's only Seth,_ she told herself. They had been in NXT together and shared locker rooms when NXT visited tiny little venues that didn't have gender-segregated spaces. All of the trees pressing close should have made her feel sheltered, but Becky couldn't remember ever feeling more exposed. When she turned around, Seth already had the blanket put away and was discreetly looking to the side, hand held out for her tote. "I can put it up for you."

"Thanks." Becky wasn't quite as diligent as she meant to be about not watching him, but she caught herself before she saw too much. "Um . . . I don't know if you want to go first. . . ."

From within the tree's branches, Seth cleared his throat. "I was actually wondering if you would. So I could watch for reference." The last three words bled together. "I've never seen another werewolf shift before, so I don't know if I'm doing it right or if there's a better way."

"If you haven't hurt yourself by now," Becky pointed out, "you're probably okay, but sure." She crouched down before he emerged from the tree. "Ready?"

She could hear his nervous gulp, but Seth's voice was steady when he said, "Yeah, I'm ready."

Becky thought it would have been difficult. Shifting amongst family was one thing, but she wasn't used to an _audience_ , let alone someone who was a friend—and maybe a tiny bit of a crush. It ended up being the smoothest shift she'd had in months. All she had to do was start thinking about fur and running, and then everything stretched and snapped into focus, her tail hitting the low branches of the tree behind her. Now that she was looking out of wolf eyes, she allowed herself to gaze up at Seth. Humans always looked a bit weird—more like a map of heat signatures than a figure—but the sense of wonder radiating from him felt like a belly rub. That wasn't a thought she wanted to dwell on, so she gave a small yip and started to run. 

"Hey!" Becky half-turned at the exclamation and saw Seth twist and writhe until his wolf form was complete. A blink later, he had cut the distance between them by half. By the time she started running again, his teeth had almost closed around her tail. It was far easier to navigate the close, cramped world of overgrown trees in wolf form, and all the natural scents felt like a cleanse, banishing all the artifice of the city. Seth matched her pace her easily and, emboldened by the fiercely clean energy surging through her, Becky pounced on him, making him tumble.

Seth got back to his feet quickly, though, and was after her like a shot, the two of them darting between trees and rocks and fallen branches with utter abandon. When he finally caught up with her again, they tumbled over each other, snouts over tails, until they flopped on the ground, panting. Seth got up first, doing the little front-foot hop that meant _Again!_ until he noticed that Becky was slower to rise. Then he nudged her side with his nose and gave a soft whine.

The touches, the calls and answers, the playing: Becky had missed it all so much. In a way, wrestling was the human version, but her wolf body was built for it—and craved it. She let Seth think she was hurt a moment or two longer before gently nipping at his leg and running off again. She thought she heard an owl far above, but her whole essence was attuned to two things: herself and Seth.

They ran for hours, playing at first until they were exhausted and then drinking from a small stream before loping side by side, exploring the terrain. Becky did her best to offer tips, explaining things with gestures and small yips, and Seth seemed to understand. By the time they made it back to the tree with their bags, their pace had slowed to a walk. Seth looked up at the bags and gave a huff of resignation, but Becky nudged him with her head before curling up on the forest floor. _Rest._ She thought the word at him as best she could, unsure he would be able to receive it. She had only ever tried the limited psychic link with family members and didn't know if it work with someone who wasn't of the same bloodline. 

Seth seemed to understand, though, because he curled up beside her, not quite touching but near enough that each time one of them breathed out, it ruffled the other's fur. It was only when true darkness fell that Becky reluctantly stood and shook herself out. The full moon wasn't very visible from where they were, but they could still see some of its light and she let her muscles go slack, slowly slumping back into her human form, hands and knees pressed against twigs and pine needles.

_I didn't even notice what animals were here,_ Becky thought as she caught her breath, staring down at the ground. She tried to think of a scent she had smelled or an interesting native animal she had seen, but she had been so focussed on Seth that everything else was a blur.

"Wow." Seth was flat on his back, looking up at the sky. "That was amazing." His smile was as bright as a second moon, his chest still heaving. "Just give me a minute and I'll get the bags."

Becky hesitated only a moment before sitting beside him. Every instinct she had was screaming at her to curl up beside him. _Touch. Comfort. Pack._ Eventually she gave his arm a hesitant little tap. "Can I?"

The unadulterated happiness on Seth's face made Becky feel guilty, and she had to keep reminding herself that it wasn't because of her; it was like an adrenaline rush after running or the afterglow that followed good sex. "Of course." He even lifted his arm a bit, letting her rest her head on his shoulder, and Becky tried for a while to keep her body at an angle from his, but then he moved his arm loosely around her and she reached up and grasped his hand and she had to let out a sigh. This—the connection, the togetherness, the communion—was what she had been missing every full-moon night, and it was almost too sweet to bear.


	5. Chapter 5

Each full moon had an official, or at least recognized, name. Seth had never bothered to remember them, though. He had a far more intimate relationship with the full moon, one that surpassed names. For the longest time, he thought he was doomed never to share that bond with anyone: his father's family didn't want anything to do with him and he hadn't ever met another werewolf. Then a simple change of plans turned his world upside down. Now he had shifted with Becky for two full moons, with their third as shiny as a pearl in the sky above them. "Think a werewolf was responsible for the moonroof?" he asked as turned onto a dirt trail and drove further into a forest. This time the full moon fell on a Sunday night. It wasn't a pay-per-view night, mercifully—those were hard to sneak away from, what with all the promos and media—but RAW was the next day, so they both needed to get all their excess wolf energy out of their systems.

Becky laughed. "You're the car nerd, not me." She had her feet up on the dash of the rental SUV, her mostly empty tote on her lap. Since they weren't going anywhere beforehand, they both were wearing their shift-friendly clothing; if anyone commented on it, they could just say they were going for a jog or something. One benefit to being in shape was that people assumed it was something you had to work at endlessly, day in and day out; it also excused the sweat and exhaustion after a long run. Reaching up, she opened the window and smiled up at the sky. "Whoever did, they were smart."

Seth had scouted out the trail beforehand by foot and it didn't look like anyone had been down it in a while, as least not in a vehicle. He still put his warning signs in the windows before getting out, though, and both he and Becky took a good look around. Neither of them could afford to be complacent about being noticed, especially now that virtually everyone had a good-quality camera on their cell phone. "I think this is a good spot. You?"

Nodding, Becky hung her tote from a low branch and started taking off her clothes. They hadn't exactly been shy the first time they shifted together, but now they disrobed openly. It was more than a simple matter of showing trust; it was also a security measure, keeping them close in case of an attack. "As long as you don't mind stowing the bags, yeah?"

"Didn't you used to be a flight attendant?" Seth teased, taking her tote bag and hooking it on a sturdy branch halfway up the tree, then tucking his own bag in beside it. He left his trusty blanket folded up a few branches down, where he could easily jump up and bite down on it in wolf form when they were done for the night. If he were being honest, it was the aftermath of the shift he liked best: the quiet, the camaraderie, the steady stillness. He had shifted on his own often enough that a bit of the magic of the transformation was gone, but now that he was sharing that moment with Becky, some of the wonder that had sustained him through his teenage years had been rekindled. Each full moon, she had taught him a little bit more about being a werewolf—filling in blanks left empty far too long by his relatives—and he absorbed it with an intensity he normally only saved for wrestling.

"Key phrase is _used to_ ," Becky replied. She was rubbing her arms, but Seth knew it wasn't just a way to have her arms in front of her breasts; Becky only really seemed warm when she was in wolf form and immediately after. "Which direction do you want to go first?"

"Oh, you mean you're actually going to wait for me this time?" The first time she had run off before he had fully shifted; the second time she had also got a head start, but not as much. He wasn't going to let it happen three times in a row.

Arching an eyebrow, Becky sat down amongst the leaves and twigs, looking wholly comfortable being naked in the middle of a forest. Seeing her out in the trees, wild and free, made Seth wish there was a way she could somehow incorporate some of her wolf nature into her wrestling persona; it would be such a natural fit, and it might just be the boost her character needed to ascend the ranks. "I'll even wait until you're done," she offered blithely.

It made Seth falter a bit. Even after just two moons, he'd grown to like—and almost expect—Becky's energy unfurling along with his. He was fully capable of shifting alone, but now that he had the option not to, he didn't want to go back. "You're planning something, aren't you?" There had been a playful note to their exchanges leading up to this full moon, and if he hadn't been the one to scout out the location, he wouldn't have put it past her to have some sort of diversion set up in the forest for him.

Becky held up her hands as a show of innocence. "Nothing at all. I'm just trying to be sporting. Because let's be real. That's the only way you're ever going to beat me." Her eyes shone with impish glee, but there was a softness to them too. Seth wouldn't go so far as to say she considered him family—at least not yet—but there was definitely trust and affection there.

"Oh really? I seem to remember tackling you a few times," Seth pointed out, lowering himself into a crouch to start his transformation.

Giving a derisive scoff that would make Maryse proud, Becky tossed her hair over her shoulders. "I was being sporting. Again. Just you wait."

"Okay. Let's see it." Competitive spirit almost as high as his adrenaline, Seth turned so he was facing Becky—he didn't quite trust that she wouldn't try to not to pull something at the last minute—and started to shift. Even though she was still in human form, he could feel her energy, her wolf just beneath the surface, and his transformation almost felt as simple as taking off clothes. Then he turned and ran, letting out a joyful howl.

It felt like only moments had passed when a furry blur sped past him, letting out a series of yips that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Now that he knew another werewolf, Seth could tell that their size in wolf form was roughly equivalent to their human stature; Becky was shorter and smaller than him as a wolf, but those weren't the only reasons she was quicker. She also had a sense of reckless abandon he admired. _Learn the rules, my father always told me,_ Becky had told him. _And then you can break them._ Becky knew the limits of her wolf form and how far she could push, and it was a delight to watch her do it.

When he came to a clearing, Seth stopped. It reminded him of that first full moon all over again, when he tracked her scent so far and then couldn't find her. It stretched from tree to tree like an invisible spider's web and he could imagine her darting back and forth, trying to confuse him. He wasn't as good at parsing scents as she was—he'd never had a good reason to learn—but he could tell it was definitely stronger in one direction. Was it a trap, though? He wasn't sure, so he carefully crept closer to the tree, ducking his head under a low branch and peering up.

Becky pounced on him hard enough to snap one of the branches, and it got dragged along for the ride as they tumbled into the clearing, pawing and yipping at each other. She got to her feet first and zoomed into the darkness, but Seth caught up with her soon enough. Since they had a televised show the next day, they cut their run a bit shorter than usual, loping side by side back to their chosen spot. Becky seemed to almost spill out of her wolf form, sprawling on the ground as she caught her breath. "You're getting better," she said. "Your turns are really clean now."

Spreading the blanket out by a tree with a mostly bare trunk, Seth laughed. "What's that? Was that a compliment? Come over here and say that." He sat with his back against the tree, tipping his face up reverently to the sky. _I wonder if werewolves are lunar powered the same way batteries can be solar powered,_ he thought, shutting his eyes. He couldn't recall feeling any particular way around new moons, though. 

Becky plopped down beside him on the blanket, gulping down half a bottle of water in one go. "Your turns are really clean now," she repeated, no hint of teasing in her voice. "For someone who's never run with a pack, that's rare."

Seth shrugged one shoulder. "I've been running with you." What he wanted to say was _You're my pack_ , but that felt akin to saying _I love you_ too early in a relationship: even if you tried to walk it back, the words were out there and they would always cast a shadow on whatever happened next. "All your _being sporting_ must be having an effect." He scooted over a bit and motioned for her to come closer. 

But Becky shook her head. "I probably shouldn't. I'm liable to fall asleep."

He used both shoulders to shrug this time. "So? Nothing wrong with a nap." He grabbed his old cell phone from his bag and set the timer for an hour, then jacked the volume up all the way before putting it to the side. "An hour to rest still gives us plenty of time to get dressed, go back to the hotel, and get enough sleep for Monday."

"I know, but—I should put something on first then. . . ." When Becky started to reach for her tote, Seth gently grabbed her arm. "Don't forget: I'm used to curling up beside my cousins or. . . ."

After Seth let go of her arm, he picked up his shirt, wadded it into a ball, and tucked it between his legs. "There. No accidental . . . anything. Is that better?"

Becky was shaking her head, but her laugh and smile were more amused than nervous. "Seth, really, you don't have to. I can stretch out on the blanket or wait until we're on the road—"

"But you'd be more comfortable here, right?" There was something about the wolf that didn't want to let go after a run, even when the human form had taken back over. Seth had forced himself through some hasty transformations in his day and they always made him feel like he had a hangover. "Come on. I mean, if you want to. You don't ha—"

"Are you sure?" When Seth nodded, Becky settled between his legs and cuddled up to his chest, resting her head right over his heart. "So warm," she murmured, almost melting into him. When her arms started to snake around him, though, she paused. "Is this okay?"

"You're fine." Seth smiled down at her as she snuggled in, heart rate slowing so much he almost worried. Her breathing was steady, though, small drifts of air across his chest and at some point he dozed off as well, because the annoying bleat of his phone alarm made him flinch, bashing the back of his head against the tree. "Fuck."

"What's the matter?" Becky didn't come out of her sleep quite as quickly, but she reached up to feel the back of his head. As she struggled to sit up, she pressed her face to his shoulder, lips brushing his collarbone.

Seth's brain froze for a moment, ignoring even the dull throb at the back of his skull. _Was that a kiss?_ No, probably not. She was just waking up and getting her bearings and maybe she had been kissing someone in a dream—but his mind kept cycling back to the potential of a _kiss_.

Becky froze too, then scrambled over his leg and off the blanket entirely. "Sorry. Shit. Sorry, sorry. I—I don't . . . Sorry." Gaze firmly cast down, Becky grabbed her bag and started pulling on her clothing so hastily she nearly tore her panties. If Seth hadn't been a werewolf—if he hadn't been watching her, trying to read something into every motion she made—he probably wouldn't have noticed her muttering, _I knew I shouldn't have. I KNEW it._

It wasn't for him, though, so he didn't feel right replying. He just stood and got dressed as well, giving Becky space and packing away his things as quickly as he could. "Becky," he said at last, "it's okay—"

"Got everything?" The false brightness in her tone hurt more than his ears; Seth hated thinking that she felt she had to be so careful, so composed around him. "We should get going." Before he could answer, she started jogging towards the SUV.

When Seth finally caught up, he saw Becky eyeing the back seat, as if she were wondering how she could justify sitting back there without being insulting or implying that Seth was a chauffeur. Wordlessly, he took her tote from her and put it in the back along with his own bag. "Becky, listen," he began as he started the SUV, "you don't have to worry. I don't mi—"

"I'm really sorry. It shouldn't have happened." Even with her seatbelt on, Becky had her legs drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them as if she were trying to make herself as small as possible. "It won't happen again, I promise."

Sighing, Seth pulled back onto the dirt lane and headed towards the main road. He couldn't think of anything to say, or at least not anything that would put Becky at ease—because he would have been quite happy it if it did happen again. That and more.


	6. Chapter 6

After the awkward ending to their third shared shift, Seth worried that Becky was going to ignore him completely or come up with some excuse why she couldn't join him for a fourth. After a few days of strained silence, however, she seemed back to her normal self—as long as that third full moon wasn't mentioned at all. Then she became distant, so Seth never brought it up and things went back to a slightly dimmed version of normal.

It was only when they got to their chosen shifting spot that things started to fall apart. They were in Iowa, in a spot Seth knew well enough to feel comfortable leaving the blanket spread out, and he was chatting about the local terrain mostly to fill up the silence. After he had tucked his clothes and shoes in his bag, he turned to reach for hers and found her still fully dressed, clutching the handles of her tote like a chastised child. "What's wrong?"

"Maybe you should go first and run—take as long as you like—and come back and then I can go." Becky's gaze was skittering around as she spoke, but it never once landed on him. "You know, just in case someone shows up. I can pretend . . . I let my dog off-leash or something."

The conflicting energies emanating from Becky were confusing his senses. Seth could tell she wanted to shift, that she wanted to run and play like normal; he could feel her wolf uncurling inside her, sensing his just as his was called to her. But something in her human brain kept holding her back. "Becky, if this is still about the third moon, it's fine. You don't have anything to feel guilty about."

Becky shook her head emphatically, and when a gentle mist landed on Seth's outstretched hand, he realized she was holding back tears. "I know better. I do. It's just been so long since I've shifted with someone who—" Her words caught in her throat and she looked away, expression equal parts irritation and agony. 

"If you're not shifting," Seth said flatly, reaching for his sweat pants, "then I'm not either."

That got Becky's attention. "You have to. I . . . I know ways to go without. It's not fun, and you can't sustain it for long, but . . . you don't. You'll get sick if you don't change."

Seth stepped into his pants and pulled them up. "Guess I'm getting sick then."

"Seth, please." Becky reflexively reached for him and stopped herself, but Seth grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and he pressed it to his chest. "I just . . . I don't want to . . . to take advantage of you or anything."

"Becky, you kissed my shoulder. Not even that, really." Seth grabbed her other hand as well and squeezed it. "If I have a problem with anything you do, I'll let you know, okay? I promise. But we both need to run, so why don't we do that and we'll see how we're feeling after, okay?" There had been countless times when turning wolf had saved Seth from bad moods or dark thoughts, and he imagined it was much the same for her. 

Sniffling, Becky nodded. "Okay." She undressed quickly and handed her bag to Seth, starting her shift before he even had their things tucked up in a tree. She didn't run off, though; she had almost started to, but then she caught herself, almost stumbling over her paws.

Seth made a point of crouching down beside her to complete his shift. "Thank you for waiting," he whispered before he began. Becky couldn't exactly smile in wolf form, but she made a gentle chuffing sound that he took as _You're welcome_. He took his time with the shift, mostly as a way to show Becky he trusted her to stay with him, and then led the way to his favourite path.

Becky's distraught mood lingered through the beginning of the run, but the more time she spent on four legs, the more her spirits lifted. By the time Seth had led her to a little stream, she was almost her normal playful self. She didn't skitter away when he tried to tackle her, and soon they were romping around again, stretching out the run as long as they dared. When the morning had reached its coldest hour, they finally tumbled to a stop near the blanket and shifted back, sprawled out under the stars.

"Feel better now?" Seth glanced over at her. The first time he had seen her post-shift, he had been worried about gawking, but now it seemed utterly natural to see her naked. When Becky nodded wordlessly, taking deep breaths, he added, "Good enough to cuddle?" It was a risk, perhaps, but he wanted to gauge her trust level—both with him and with herself.

Becky was silent for a few moments before sitting up. "I'd like that," she said simply. "If you're fine with it."

"I am." Seth sat back against his chosen tree and looked up at her. "Pick your spot." His legs were spread wide enough to accommodate her, but not so much so that they dominated the blanket and left her no other choice. 

When he reached for his shirt to cover his groin again, she shook her head. "It's okay. I trust you." Rather than snuggle up to his chest, though, Becky leaned back against him and when he gingerly looped an arm around her waist, she rested one of hers on top of it. "Thank you. We . . . didn't really talk about werewolf stuff on the drive like normal. Is there anything you wanted to ask?" Sometimes her lessons started with his questions and spread out from there; other times they were sparked by something they had seen or heard on their run.

"Not really. Teacher's choice," Seth replied. Having her snuggled up to his chest would have been more soothing, but this was comfortable too, the press of so much skin. He noticed she had relaxed her posture a bit so she wasn't pressed right up against his groin.

"Well . . . um, I guess something handy for you to know with your girlfriends," Becky said, voice catching a bit on the last word, "is that you don't have to worry about impregnating them on a full-moon night. Sex with humans generally isn't smart on a full-moon night to begin with, just because our control is so uncertain, but if you do . . . lapse, you don't have to worry if you forgot a condom. And before you ask, the same goes for the ladies too. I don't have to worry about getting pregnant. It's some weird genetic quirk that deactivates our fertility on full-moon nights. It's not the act of shifting," she was quick to clarify, "so don't think you can skip condoms altogether and just go have a run before you want to fuck."

"Good to know." Seth's voice was strangled and he hoped Becky didn't notice. The follow-up question he wanted to ask wasn't going to help settle his nerves, though. "So is it common for a werewolf's libido to . . . uh, peak on the full moon?" Becky had either moved back a bit or his erection had gotten harder, because it suddenly felt like there was a lot less room between them.

"Yeah." Her voice was strained too, and her fingers lingered over his. "For both men and women."

"Have you ever had sex on a full-moon night?" Seth shut his eyes and swore softly. She was going to elbow him in the gut and storm off any minute now.

Except she didn't. Her back muscles softened a bit more and she twined her fingers with his. "No. But my cousins have said it's like that moment when you're shifting and everything just sort of slides into place." She said it with a wistful sigh, her thighs clenching a bit before she forced herself to relax.

Seth lowered his head just enough so that his mouth was by her ear, but not touching. "That's my favourite part. Sounds incredible." He chanced lowering his hand on her belly a fraction of an inch, relieved when she leaned into the touch. "More?" When she nodded, head rubbing against his chest, he tugged on the hand that was entwined with his. "Show me where."

Sighing softly, Becky stopped with his hand just above the juncture of her thighs. "Are you sure?" She rose so suddenly he thought she was going to smack him or leave—maybe both—but she turned around and straddled his thighs instead, settling in before grabbing his hand again. "Still sure?" It was desire making her eyes shine now, not tears, and she was truly meeting his gaze for the first time that day.

"Show me where," he repeated simply, letting her guide his fingers up and in until her breath caught in a gasp. She was incredibly wet and he just wanted to touch her _everywhere_ , but he started with the obvious spot, steadying her with his free hand when she started to rock against his fingers.

When she reached out with both hands, he thought Becky was going to grasp his shoulders for balance, but she grabbed the tree behind him instead, gripping hard enough to make the wood groan—or maybe that was her. Seth was kissing lazy trails between her neck and her breasts when she came, slumping against him and closing her thighs around his hand as best she could. "They were right. That was incredible." Breathing still ragged, she started wriggling against his hand again. "But I think I forgot part of the lesson."

Seth couldn't tell if she was joking or not, so he concentrated on keeping his fingers inside her. "And what's that?"

Becky pressed close to his chest, mouth against his neck. "No refractory period to worry about on full-moon nights either. Well, minimal, anyway. So I've been told." She slid a hand between their bodies and gently wrapped her fingers around his cock. "Want to test the theory?"

"Absolutely."


	7. Chapter 7

Becky had heard the phrase _fucking like rabbits_ often enough, but after the last full moon, she had to wonder if there was a werewolf equivalent. Between not having to worry about possibly getting pregnant and having virtually no refractory period, she could see how it end up becoming an addiction. It wasn't anything she had thought about much growing up, since her pack was comprised mostly of family members, but now she wished she had asked some of her cousins more questions. Her father was generally pretty open-minded and understanding, but sex marathons weren't something she really wanted to discuss with him.

She didn't particularly want to discuss it with Seth either, so she tried to avoid him as much as she could. It was easy enough to deflect in text messages, since neither of them wanted to be caught with those kind of details on their phones. When he called, it was a little harder, but she could usually think of an excuse to get off the phone; if all else failed, she would text Charlotte their code phrase for 'call me and get me out of this situation FAST', and then Charlotte would call and Becky could say she had to go. It was backstage when things were difficult. She could only pretend not to hear him or to be busy so often before someone else caught on, and then that person would inevitably think the wrong thing: that Seth and Becky were dating and had just had a fight.

_We're not dating. We just had a lot of sex._ With Becky's luck, that's probably what she would snap in reply, and it was the refrain going around her head as well. It felt like she was trying to convince herself more and more lately, and she hated it. She had just started texting her cousin Caitlin to ask if she could have a 'family chat' soon—a basic code for werewolf matters—when she felt Seth approaching. _I hate this,_ Becky thought, quickly finishing the text and sending it before he could see. Ever since they'd fucked on the last full moon, she had been annoyingly attuned to his energy; if he was more sensitive to hers in turn, she hadn't given him enough chance to say so. "Hey. Great match tonight. I need to go get ready for—"

"No." Seth didn't touch her, but he stepped definitively in her way, shoulders squared but not tense. "You've been brushing me off for weeks, ever since. . . ." He gave a meaningful pause before continuing. "And now there's another one in less than a week and we haven't even discussed where to go or—"

Becky pressed her phone to her stomach, but it wasn't very comforting. The sex wasn't the problem, or at least not the crux of it; her biggest worry was that she would start to crave it, that the togetherness—even if it was just with one other werewolf—would make her miss her family pack even more. "I don't think you need any more help. You knew a lot of the tricks already before I started helping, so we don't really need to go toge—"

"Becky." Seth's sigh made her quiver, and she fussed with her phone to call attention away from her shuffling feet and dropped gaze. "What's wrong? What did I do wrong? Is your pa—father mad?" He caught himself just before he said _pack_. "Is he upset that you told me?"

"It's nothing to do with him." She could have easily used her father, her family, or her pack as an easy excuse, but that felt cheap. "I just think you're doing a really good job, so there's no point in me being around when you'd be quite fine on your own." When Becky moved to the side, Seth matched her step for step, giving her little choice but to look up at him. "Seth, I have to go." She silently cursed time zones and the fact that Ireland was so far away; if Caitlin had texted back, she would have an excuse to check her phone and leave.

"Are you upset about what we did?" The crushed, worried look in his eyes was almost too much to bear, but Becky couldn't look away. "Did . . . did I hurt you or do something you didn't want?" There was no one in the vicinity—either of them would have been able to sense if someone was close enough to eavesdrop—but they were both cautious by nature. "If I did, I'm sor—"

"You didn't," Becky said quickly. She could deal with Seth being angry or upset, but not his guilt—especially when he hadn't done anything wrong. They had both been very equal, very enthusiastic participants in the sex fest, and she was pretty sure she was the one who had instigated most of it. "I just think it's safer if we go solo. That way only one of us potentially gets caught instead of both."

Seth rubbed his face in frustration, his hands barely muffling his cursing. "That's bullshit and you know it." He stepped closer and leaned down so his head was close to hers. "You want all that again. You want _more_ than that and it scares you."

"Speak for yourself," Becky snapped, taking a step back. "Just because you can read scents doesn't mean you know what I want." She tapped the side of her head. "This matters too, you know."

"I know it does." Seth closed the gap between them again, causing Becky to back up against the wall. "And I think the human side of you wants it just as much, but something's holding you back and I don't know what, because I've never had support system you had. There's so much I don't know and I want to learn,—I _need_ to learn—and if that means not having . . . the rest, I'll cope with that. But please, don't shut me out just because your libido got loud and you don't know how to shut it up."

Becky almost wanted to laugh, but she stopped herself. It wasn't Seth's most eloquent speech, but she could tell it was genuine. He would truly give up any prospect of sex just to be able to run with her and learn from her. It was deeply humbling; back home, she wasn't particularly renowned for anything, so to be someone's go-to source was new to her. _Not like he has a lot of options,_ she told herself. "I'm sorry," she said softly, moving away again. "I never thought of it that way. If you want, we can go together next week and I'll just . . . be more careful."

Seth focussed on the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Becky, you didn't . . . coerce me or molest me or anything like that, okay? I knew what I was doing the whole time." This time when he held her gaze, it was only desire darkening his eyes. "I wanted it then and I want it again, and I've wanted it every day between then and now, and it's making me feel like a damn teenager all over again."

Becky's nervous gulp tumbled into an awkward laugh. _At least I'm not the only one,_ she thought, gaze dropping for the slightest second down to his crotch. "Yeah, I need to talk to my cousin about that. I didn't think about side effects. . . ."

Seth burst out laughing, and even though it was at her, Becky was glad his energy was brightening up again. " _Side effects_?" I don't call _wanting to do something again because it was amazing the first time_ a 'side effect', but that's me." He went quiet for a long moment and was far more solemn when he added, "Really, if you don't want to do . . . well, any of it, obviously, I won't be offended. I get it. I was a bit overwhelmed the next day—"

"Like a hangover?" Becky didn't mean to blurt it out, but it was such a relief to know she wasn't alone. She'd thought she was just overwhelmed because it had been a while since she'd had sex at all—just regular human sex at that—and to go from nothing to hours of inhibition was quite a leap. "Like I said, I want to talk to my cousin about that. Neither of us can afford to show up for work all dop—" Becky couldn't quite stop the words from coming out. It wasn't going to happen again, so it was a purely academic question. She also didn't believe that for a second and, judging from Seth's unfathomable gaze, he didn't either. "Anyway," she added with false brightness, "that's just another reason not to."

"If you knew, though, would you want to?" Seth managed to keep his expression blank, but the intensity in his eyes gave him away.

_Caitlin, text me back already!_ Becky knew her cousin was probably still asleep, but she was desperate for any reason to disengage, any exit that would stop her from falling into Seth's gaze and entertaining thoughts she should have left behind a moon ago. "It doesn't matter. We're friends, and I'm teaching you, so it's probably inappropriate anyway, and we really shouldn't be talking about _any_ of this here. . . ."

"At the hotel tonight, then. Please." Seth brushed his lips against her forehead before stepping back. "Text me your room number after you've talked to your cousin and I'll come over." He strode away then, but Becky heard the strained breath he let out, the soft _pop_ s as he tried to roll the stress out of his shoulders and neck.

Becky set her phone down on an equipment trunk and shook out her arms and hands to banish some of her nervous energy. _I shouldn't have done that,_ she chastised herself. _This isn't a full moon and I don't have the wolf as an excuse and I don't have any condoms and the fact that I'm even THINKING about that means I'm done for._

After grabbing her phone and going back to the locker room to stash it in her bag, Becky tried to focus on anything but her messages, the hotel, and Seth. She succeeded on two counts.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sex hangover? That's a new one on me, Becca. Near as I can find out, that only happens in a bond. Usually you just feel a bit spent the next day. In the good way, obvs, but spent all the same. No lasting ill effects. But Isibeal is married to another werewolf, so I asked her and she said it can be like that. Doesn't mean you're soulmates or any of that rubbish, but it means you're compatible, I guess. That you belong? Something like that. Does this mean my little cousin has finally found someone? Do tell!_

As soon as she read the text, Becky regretted so many things. Since werewolves were rare, she could hardly use the set-up of 'a friend' needing advice, but she also hadn't specifically mentioned herself. And what the hell did 'happens in a bond' mean? Caitlin said that and then a few lines down said it had nothing to do with soulmates. None of it made sense, and none of it was anything she felt comfortable showing to Seth. He would be expecting a reply, though, so she texted him her room number and a quick message: _Didn't get useful info, though, so if you don't want to come, it's cool._

_There in 5,_ Seth replied, and two minutes later, there was a knock on her door. "I didn't run here, I swear," he said with a bashful smile when she let him in. "My room's not far."

Becky raised an eyebrow when he set his bag on the entry table. "Do you go anywhere without that fanny pack? As a human, anyway?"

"It's a cross-body bag," he replied with a hint of defensiveness, "and it's handy."

" _Cross-body bag_? Did Cesaro tell you that? Just because he's European doesn't mean he's right, you know." Becky gestured to the small writing desk. Telling Seth to sit on the bed seemed like an invitation to trouble. They were probably going to end up there anyway, but that didn't mean she had make it obvious before the draft from the door opening had even settled.

"So what did your cousin say?" Seth settled in the desk chair and glanced towards the window. From the outside, they were heavily tinted, but Becky had the curtains open so she could look at the moon. "Did we do something wrong?"

Becky bit her lip. _Aside from the obvious?_ There were so many cautionary tales about not getting involved with a friend, and here she was, basically planning to have sex with him in less than a week. "No. She said some people are just more . . . compatible. For lack of a better word. Werewolf concepts don't always translate well into words," she finished weakly, walking over to the window and gazing out at the dark sky. She always tried to get a room that would face the moon if she could, and now she wondered if Seth did the same. There was so much she missed about being around other werewolves, so many little things lacking in her daily life that pack werewolves took for granted.

"Compatible," Seth echoed, mouth lingering on the first syllable—and Becky's gaze lingering in turn on his lips before she forced herself to to look through the window again. "What does that mean in a pack context? I know the whole thing with alphas and omegas is bullshit, at least with natural wolves in the wild, but do packs have a hierarchy? Is that what she meant by _compatible_ —that we'd work well together in a pack?"

_Yeah, let's go with that._ Becky shrugged, watching her pale reflection move along with her. "Like I said, werewolf concepts don't always translate well. It's about instincts and energy. . . ." In the shining glass, she saw Seth stand up and walk to meet her at the window, not quite standing behind her but not fully beside either. She had felt his warmth when he was still out of reach; now that he was so close, it was almost like sitting next to a campfire. "Maybe. I guess. Not that it matters," Becky added in a strained voice. Even the reflection of Seth's gaze made her heart flutter, so she turned and looked the other way. "Because we're not a pack."

"Why? Because we're not related? Packs can't only be made up of family members unless inbreeding is another thing that doesn't affect werewolves." Seth placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Would you look at me, please?"

Becky started to turn, but stopped halfway. "I don't think this is a good idea," she whispered, breath misting white over the window. "If . . . if we want to hook up, there's the full moon. It's safe and we're alone and we have the excuse of being werewolves—"

"I don't need an excuse to want to be with you." Seth's hand moved from her shoulder to her jaw, tilting her face so she was looking at him. "Being a werewolf has nothing to do with this."

"It's what you are," Becky retorted. "It's what I am. It has _everything_ to do with it. You . . . you were never interested in me before you found out what I was." She knew the same accusation could be levelled at her, but she wasn't the one with eyes as dark as the night and twice as deep. She wasn't the one who had brought a fanny pack—she would never call it a cross-body bag, no matter what he or Cesaro or anyone else said—with condoms she could smell the second she opened the door.

No, she was the one whose eyes didn't want to stop drinking him in. She was the one who had opened that door, welcoming Seth and his fanny pack—she might relent and allow _belt bag_ —and everything they both promised. She was the one who could have made up a lie and told him that the sex hangover was a bad sign and that they could never have sex again, but chose not to.

"Just because you didn't see it doesn't mean it wasn't there," Seth retorted softly, leaning back against the window so he could see Becky's face. "You just always said you wouldn't date a wrestler, so I thought why bother? I wasn't going to lose one of my closest friends for a crush if I could help it." He let his hand drop from her jaw and reached for her hand instead, pulling her in front of him so she couldn't stare out the window to avoid him. "Why can't we be a pack? If we're . . . compatible or whatever, why can't we be whatever the fuck we want? It's not like we're clueless kids—"

"Aren't we?" She looked just past Seth to the skyline beyond, all silhouettes and scattered lit windows. "We have no idea what could happen. My cousin said there weren't any ill effects, but the person she asked is married to another werewolf, so of course they have no problem with a bond—" Becky heard her breath catch seconds before Seth's did and she swore softly.

"Bond? So it's gone from being _compatible_ to having _a bond_?" he asked. He could clearly tell there was more than Becky was saying, but he didn't seem angry about it, just curious.

"It's . . . not common, so there's not exactly a lot of information." Becky spun on her heel and walked back to the centre of the room, pacing along the foot of the bed. "Lots of werewolves can just have full-moon sex and that's that. I don't know why we're . . . like this."

Without the benefit of the window, she couldn't see Seth approach, but she could still hear him and she chose to stand still anyway, letting him come up behind her and kiss the top of her head. "Becks, we've been friends for years. I don't want to jeopardize that. But I don't think our friendship—our _bond_ —is something we have to keep under lock and key. I think we can build on that. Ever since we've been shifting together, haven't you felt different? Stronger, but also calmer? Like you have more energy, but also more . . . peace?"

Becky nodded slowly, and Seth was still close enough that her hair whispered against his shirt. "How many condoms did you bring?" she asked, tone even and neutral.

To his credit, Seth didn't try to lie or offer a justification. "Three. It's all I had left at home and I forgot to buy more." With a chuckle, he added, "I haven't exactly been dating, so there wasn't much point."

"If we waited until next week," Becky pointed out, "we wouldn't need the condoms at all." She could practically hear him _get it_ : his heart lurched, his breath caught, his eyes blinked so rapidly his eyelashes nearly got tangled. She couldn't remember ever having that effect on anyone she'd dated before. There had been guys she'd liked well enough, but with her wolf in the equation, there was never any prospect of a future she felt comfortable with. _Maybe that's what the bond is_ , she thought, still smiling to herself as Seth struggled to reply. 

"If we waited until next week," Seth said at last, gently grabbing her elbow and turning her around to face him, "we wouldn't have that view. Or a bed."

"No. But we'd have the full sky and open air." Becky let her hand rest over his heart. It wasn't beating quite as fast as it had been after he'd finished a run, or when they had been fucking so roughly she thought one of them was going to break a bone, but it still filled her ears like a favourite song.

"The glass is tinted; we can keep the curtains open. And we can open the window." A small, wondrous smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "Unless you're worried about getting cold."

Becky met the smile with one of her own. "Maybe that's why we're compatible." She rose on tiptoe and gave him a soft, whispery kiss. "You keep me warm. Not sure what you get out of this except sex."

"You make me feel whole." It should have sounded horribly cliche, but his tone was so genuine that Becky felt a pang. Amongst her family, she was like her father, a dreamer. Her family pack loved her and they admired her resolve to achieve her dream, but she was no one's first choice for advice or a friendly ear. To be needed, to be wanted, was an incredibly moving thing. Seth's arms drew her in close as they kissed until they were dizzy. "We don't have to do anything, but . . . if we are, I should get the condoms before both of us forget."

"I'll get the window." Becky did a quick glance around the room, but saw nothing that a strong breeze could blow away, so she tied the curtains back and opened the crank as far as it would go, which wasn't much. Then she paused for a moment to watch Seth's reflection in the glass, the way his fingers fumbled over the foil squares like a teenager's. When he caught her looking, she laughed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Ever since that first full moon, I keep thinking I look at you too much and that someone will notice, but so far no one's said anything. Not to me, anyway." Then he pointed up. "Lights?"

"Off." Enough ambient light came in through the open window that they could easily see their way to the bed, and it cast the room in a softer amber glow than the hotel's lamps. It caught along their curves and muscles as they undressed each other slowly, kissing and stroking without the restless hunger of their wolves behind them. When they needed a condom, they were sure to open it carefully, and the night breeze picked up at the perfect time, just as they were starting to sweat and moan and plead. Even without the wildness of the wolf in play, Becky could feel that strange energy stirring, mingling with the orgasm that was so unbearably close but not yet part of it. "God, _there_. Can you see—"

"It's gold," Seth moaned, thrusting deeper into her. "Amber? That and red. And it moves like silk."

It built up more each time he was inside her, and it was still dark by the time his three condoms had been used and discarded, but they didn't let that dissuade them. There were plenty of other ways they could have fun, after all, and now that they had their human minds—clearer, calmer, more thorough—they were able to conjure that spiralling energy over and over with just hands and mouths; Becky even made him climax once just by whispering a licentious list of the things she was going to do to him under the full moon next week. "If that's compatibility," Becky sighed, "I can live with that."

Seth nuzzled just above her hip. "Just on full-moon nights from now on, though. Right? Because we're werewolves and—"

"We would need condoms the rest of the time," Becky said, "and we would need to be discreet so we don't get caught, and—"

"Or we could just start dating," Seth suggested, curling up beside her and stroking her hip. "It would explain why we were spending time together, so we wouldn't have to worry about people noticing us together on the full moons. Though I doubt _werewolves_ would be the first thing that came to anyone's mind—well, except maybe Paige's."

_Dating._ Just the word made Becky twitch. It tried to encapsulate such a weird, tenuous time in a relationship. If she was ever going to break her rule about dating a wrestler, though, she had to admit that Seth was one of the few candidates she would consider worth the risk. "Let's see if we get a hangover from _this_ first," she replied, wrapping her hand around his cock again, "and then see how the next full moon goes, and decide from there."

Seth shut his eyes and stretched out his back. "I'm nowhere near drunk yet."

"We still have a few hours until everyone's going to start waking up," Becky replied. "Plenty of time."


	9. Chapter 9

Seth's knowledge of werewolf packs was all second-hand. When his relatives had mentioned the more formal things, like politics and power structures, he hadn't paid much attention since he figured it would never apply to him; if his own kin didn't want to include him, it was unlikely he would ever find a pack on his own, since werewolves were so rare. Then Becky had started teaching him things and sharing stories from her youth, and Seth got more of a sense of the idealized type of pack he'd built up in his head, one bonded by love and family—plus a healthy dose of humour. The last factor might be more attributed to Becky's family members themselves and less of a werewolf trait, but he was glad it was part of the package. It lessened the sting of being rejected by his father's family somewhat—if they couldn't find the joy in what they were, Seth wouldn't have fit in well with them anyway—and it gave him hope. Even if they were going to tease him mercilessly—and Becky had basically warned him that they would—her family were at least likely to give him a chance. 

When it was all just theoretical, Seth was fine with the idea of going on a run with the werewolf side of Becky's family. When WWE's European tour actually kicked off and the full moon neared, his nerves started to fray. "Do they know we're . . . you know?" He'd meant _fucking_ , but since they were dating as well, he wasn't sure if that would be excused or if it just meant he was going to get twice as much scrutiny. He and Becky had started seeing each other quietly, only informing management and close friends because they weren't really sure anything would develop; simply being werewolves wasn't enough to justify being together. As the days turned into weeks, though, they both found that the bond they shared in wolf form was starting to develop in their human lives as well. How he had gone from single and being without a pack to dating one of his best friends who happened to be a werewolf as well he had absolutely no clue, and Seth often wondered when the dream was going to end.

Becky, naturally, knew exactly what he meant and she wasn't shy about saying it out loud. "Fucking? Or dating?" She even said it in the same order, as if dating were the one that would somehow take more explaining. "Probably. I mean, I was asking Caitlin about werewolf sex and now Dad knows that you were the other werewolf in the company, so I'm sure it didn't take them long to piece things together." Becky kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry. They won't bug you too much." 

She hadn't even tried to put a dramatic pause before _too much_ , which was telling; it meant that teasing was an absolute given, and while Becky had grown up with werewolf-grade shenanigans, Seth hadn't. "That's not reassuring," he told her, pulling her down onto his lap. He would have loved to drive out to meet the werewolf clan, but Ireland's country roads were notoriously unforgiving to tourists and Becky wasn't a great driver, so her father was coming to pick them up at their hotel instead.

"I'd say _Get a room_ , but. . . ." Samoa Joe stopped in front of them, gesturing at the hotel lobby. "You clearly already have one, so why aren't you in it?"

"My dad's coming to pick us up. We're going camping under the full moon. Family tradition," Becky said with a smile. It always amazed Seth how she could weave thinly veiled truths into her discussions with people and no one seemed to notice the odd turn of phrase here and there. She had probably made hundreds of vague werewolf comments around him and he'd never noticed.

"He look like the camping type to you, Lynch? He doesn't leave home without a fanny pack, for cryin' out loud," Samoa Joe laughed, pointing at the belted bag sitting on top of their knapsacks; since they were only going to be gone for a night and most of that would be spent in wolf form, they were leaving their larger luggage at the hotel.

Seth gave him a sharp look. "Actually, it's a cross-bod—"

Becky stopped him by putting a hand over his mouth. "No one calls it that, Seth. Not even Cesaro."

Samoa Joe backed away with his hands held up in surrender. "I didn't mean to start a lovers' quarrel." Then he pointed at Becky's belly. "Just please tell me there's not a baby Architect in there. The women's division needs you far too much and any kid of his is going to be an outright brat."

"Hey!" Seth protested. He knew he was far from perfect—and the fan base online loved reminding him of that, since there was ample photographic evidence—but he was improving, and he knew Becky was a huge part of that. For the first time he could remember, he wasn't dreading full moons anymore.

Becky blushed a bit. "He's just meeting some of my family, Joe. That's all."

"That's good." Then Joe touched his forehead to Becky's briefly before stepping back. "But if he does anything stupid and your family doesn't want to deal with it, this family will. Got that, Rollins?" He gave Seth a dagger glare before continuing on his way.

"Why does practically the entire men's locker room have some protective big brother complex when it comes to you?" Seth marvelled, watching Joe to make sure he actually left and didn't just find a seat and spy on them until Becky's father arrived.

Raising an eyebrow, Becky cleared her throat. "You don't."

"That would just be awkward." Seth was about to ask how far out of Dublin they would be when a small SUV pulled up, and he recognized the man in the driver's seat from their video chats. "That's us."

"You'll be fine." Becky squeezed his hand as she stood and kissed him. "Dad won't bite. Unless you're a squirrel, that is." She gave him a wink and grabbed her bag. "Wolf humour," she whispered.

"It's going to be a long night, isn't it?" Seth stood and picked up his bag as well, but took his time. Becky was already at the SUV and her father had just stepped out to hug her, and he didn't want to intrude on the moment. The non-American wrestlers got to see their families and native countries so rarely, and watching them reunite with loved ones always gave Seth a pang. He certainly had family that cared about him—his mother, his stepfather, his brothers—and he couldn't imagine not seeing them for months at a time.

"What are you waiting for, lad?" Becky's father beckoned to Seth over her shoulder. "I don't bite."

"Except squirrels?" Seth guessed, walking over and setting his bag on the ground by Becky's before holding out his hand to shake.

"Ah, she's already telling you the jokes, is she?" Becky's father kissed her cheek before turning to Seth. "I'm Ken. Pleasure to meet you in person. Do you mind terribly if I call you Seth? I know it's not your proper name, but it's what we've been calling you in our chats so it seems simplest." 

"That's fine with me. Thanks for coming to get us." Seth shot Becky a questioning look and mouthed, _What chats?_ It didn't sound like Ken meant the ones Seth had been a part of. Given that her family was both Irish and mostly werewolf, Seth expected a certain amount of sharing, but he didn't realize he was going to be a main subject of discussion. 

Ken must have caught the exchange as well, because he just laughed. Seth knew from his own video chats with him that Ken had a warm, hearty laugh, and it was even richer in person. "Oh, nothing to fear, I promise, nothing to fear. Just keeping the others in the loop—no pun intended, Rebecca," he added when Becky smirked. "Let's get on the road. We can talk on the way. There's some water in the back for you, if you'd like." 

Seth and Becky's bags were small enough to fit comfortably by their feet, so they both slid into the back seat and set their knapsacks on the floor. "Thanks again for coming, Dad. I don't think we could have survived an hour alone with Caitlin," Becky said, fastening her seatbelt and kicking off her shoes.

"She means well," Ken replied, "but she can be a bit brash. A little like someone else we know. Isn't that right, Seth?" He winked in the rear-view mirror.

When Seth hesitated, Becky poked him in the side. "It's fine. I've been called far worse. _Brash_ is practically a compliment around here. So, Dad, what's the craic? Get us caught up before we get to the forest so I don't have to hear it all from Niamh. The woman couldn't summarize a blank sheet of paper in under five minutes, I swear."

"I seem to remember someone taking about forty-five minutes to tell me her life story when we met in NXT," This time when Becky tried to poke him, Seth used her momentum and pulled her in close to his side. 

"First of all," Becky said, "that means you counted. Secondly, that was my _life story_. I was what—twenty-six then? Forty-five minutes for twenty-six years . . . well, that's not even two minutes a year! And I had some very busy years!"

"That she has," Ken agreed. Then he pointed to his greying hair and added, "Who do you think gave me most of this?"

When they stopped at a red light, Becky leaned forward and kissed her dad's cheek. "It makes you look like a distinguished gentleman. So . . . on with the craic, Dad. Who's all coming?"

"Well, we thought it would be best if there weren't any younglings. Not because we didn't think you were capable of behaving," Ken said quickly, waving a finger at his daughter in the rear-view mirror. "But most of them watch wrestling, and while they know enough not to say anything about Rebecca, they might get overexcited at seeing one of their favourite wrestlers and accidentally say something at school. So all the kids are having their own camping party elsewhere."

Glancing over at Becky, Seth could tell she was a bit disappointed that she wouldn't get to visit with her youngest cousins. Whenever WWE had signing sessions, her favourite fans were always the young ones. "I appreciate the consideration. I hadn't even thought of that. I feel bad that the kids can't be with everyone else, though."

Ken shook his head. "Not to worry. We all shift together most full moons, so it's not like they're missing a special rite or anything." He caught Becky's gaze in the rear-view mirror and Seth wasn't sure what the father and daughter were telegraphing to each other, but it made Becky blush a bit. "But Caitlin will be there, much to your delight, Rebecca. She just has to work a bit late, that's all." Then Ken launched into a sprawling list of names that Seth struggled to follow, even though Becky chimed in with helpful descriptions like _He has blue hair right now, I think, or maybe green?_ and _Her legs are all tattooed with vines; she cosplays as Poison Ivy so much that she figured it was easier_.

The cityscape of Dublin gave way to Ireland's picture-postcard countryside, and as soon as the trees started to cluster together, Seth felt his fingers starting to twitch. "It's not far now," Becky told him, kissing his cheek. "And the river has the most amazing water. It's incredible."

Seth glanced up just in time to see Ken smiling at them in the rear-view mirror, eyes sparkling. It was a teasing look, to be sure, but it also held a healthy dose of affection. It made Seth glad he had met Ken in human form before they all shifted; knowing the man before the wolf was reassuring somehow. "And the hollow tree is still there, Rebecca, so you'll have to show it to him."

Becky straightened up so suddenly she almost hit Seth's chin. "Really? Oh, that's great! It was my favourite place to run to when I was young," she explained, settling back against his side, "because the inside is super small, so you have to be tiny to fit in there. I would pester the bejeezus out of my older cousins and then make a run for the tree. Didn't always make it," she added with a dry chuckle, "and lost chunks of tail fur in the process, but if I could get there, it was like a tiny little haven."

Seth looked down at his bag and thought for a moment. "Can I take pictures of the scenery? I won't take pictures of anyone, of course," he added quickly, "not as humans _or_ as wolves. But the landscape here is gorgeous."

"That should be fine," Ken replied, turning onto a bumpy road with a large gate halfway down. "Just make sure no one's in the frame, and there shouldn't be trouble. No video, though. You might pick up distinctive voices or howls." When they reached the gate, Ken hopped out of the SUV and went to unlock it.

Becky took advantage of the brief solitude to give Seth a kiss. "Still good?" she asked, patting his cheek. "You're not going to run away on me?"

"I wouldn't know which way to go," Seth replied with a grin, giving her ass a quick pinch just as Ken pushed the gate open wide. "I'm good. I'm going to forget everyone's name and probably make a fool out of myself, but as long as you don't mind, I'm good."

"The hollow tree my dad brought up?" Becky spoke quickly, face angled towards his shoulder. "There's a bigger one further down the path. Big enough for two, if they don't mind getting a bit close."

Before Seth could say anything, Ken was back in the SUV, setting the padlock key on the passenger seat and driving through the open gate. Seth reached for the key when Ken reached for his door. "I don't mind," Seth said, holding Becky's gaze as he spoke. She wasn't the only one who could tease.


	10. Chapter 10

Families could bring out your best and your worst, and Seth supposed packs were no different; if anything, they probably amplified every emotion, every squabble. Becky's pack—a significant portion of her father's side of the family, plus some members of a much smaller werewolf clan—was large and loud, occasionally lacking boundaries and common sense, but Seth could see the good and bad in that. Caitlin had bugged Becky relentlessly about her 'new friend' and made sure Seth knew he didn't need condoms on a full-moon night. "I don't know how long it'd been before you, but it's about time she was banging someone," Caitlin declared. "I was about to tell her to at least shag that Charlotte girl, but big fake breasts are so off-putting when they're in your face. If I wanted fake, I'd fuck a doll, you know?"

"You _have_ , Cait," Becky had replied, rolling her eyes. "At Isibeal's hen night, remember?"

Rather than being embarrassed, though, Caitlin shrugged it off easily. "Couldn't have been a very memorable doll then."

Raunchy jokes and bizarre questions aside—one of Becky's cousins asked which name his family called him by—Seth found himself fitting in easily, at least for the human portion. It was after the family picnic that the true test would begin, and he noticed that Becky always stayed close, touching his hand or the back of his neck to reassure him. "They know you didn't have a pack growing up," she said softly. It wasn't for privacy—she knew the others could hear them—but because the words were just meant for him. "They're not going to judge you if you do something slightly different."

The idea had never really occurred to him. How many possible ways could there be to shift? It seemed like a rather singular thing. "Do I? Do things . . . differently?"

Becky shrugged. "Don't forget how long I've been in the States. I usually only get to run with my family once a year, and that's if I'm lucky."

That put the night in a different perspective for Seth: Becky hardly got to spend any time with her family, and here she was, sharing one of their most important days with him. He thought about offering to leave, but he forced himself to stay quiet. There were the obvious problems he would have—not having a ride, still needing a place to run—but he knew this meant as much to Becky as it did to him. "I just don't want to embarrass you," he said gently, kissing her after they had grabbed their bags. The others were already starting to disrobe, talking half-naked with their kin with nary a blushing face in sight. They were all in decent shape, but there was no shame shown about wrinkles or body hair or any other perceived imperfection. Caitlin might have whistled when Seth took off his pants, but then she blew Becky a kiss and hooted, "Cousin approved!"

"And now you know why I never brought my ex over to meet the family," Becky said with a slightly strained laugh. She was already naked, digging her toes in the grass to familiarize herself with the terrain again.

Seth crouched and started repacking his bag so his post-shift items were at the top. Many members of Becky's family were just leaving their clothing in piles, but Seth was used to being careful. He winked up at Becky and said, "So does that mean I'm the first?"

Becky made her eyes comically wide. "The first werewolf I've brought home? Yes."

Part of Seth had expected a pack to shift was one great unit, so he was surprised to see people shifting at random. Some took their time, reminding him of a cat's languorous stretch, while others transformed as quickly as a bubble popping. He recognized the energy of the change, though, and it had been heady enough when it was just him and Becky. Now with dozens of others feeling the same drive, singing the same song, it was almost transcendent. Without even thinking about it, he felt body start to melt into his wolf form and he caught glimpses of Becky doing the same. Dozens of howls lifted into the sky and then the ground shook with so many paws starting to run.

Becky had suggested they be social for at least an hour and Seth didn't disagree; he was eager to meet her family in their wolf forms as well, and found it far easier to remember their scents and fur markings than their human names. They loped alongside her father for a while, and without words, Ken somehow managed to impart childhood stories of Becky's werewolf mishaps. They even ran with Caitlin for a bit, if only so Becky could pounce on her and send her tumbling into the river. Once they had done their rounds, though, they snuck off on their own, following an old deer trail past a series of crumbling caves. Seth lingered, wondering if it would be safe for them inside, but Becky nudged him away. _Dead things_ echoed in his head, and he hoped he remembered to ask her about it later.

Once they were far enough away from the others—he strongly suspected Ken had told everyone to give Seth and Becky some private time—playtime truly started. They pounced and ran and playfully nipped at each other, tumbling over each other like clumsy puppies. _First hollow tree_ , Becky communicated, sniffing at the opening of a lightning-split tree. Seth could automatically see the appeal of the haven to a child and knew it would have been his favourite place too. On the way to the promised larger tree, they wandered off the path, finding a tree with low-hanging branches to fuck under. Since wolf-form sex didn't have the array of options than human sex did, they were always much quicker as wolves, but Seth always made a point to make it up to her when they shifted back.

Seth thought Becky would go back on the path and show him the larger hollow tree, but she sped back to the gathering area where they had left their bags, a blur against the dark night, and he struggled to keep up. He might have the strength advantage in human form, but he didn't know if he would ever beat her as a wolf. By the time he found her, she had his bag held delicately in her mouth. _Let's go!_ The command was full of infectious enthusiasm and he followed her happily, yipping quick greetings to the other wolves they passed. How she was running so fast with his knapsack in her mouth, he didn't know, but before he knew it they were past the first hollow tree, past the spot where they'd just fucked, and stopping in front of a looming tree that would have looked right at home on the cover of any horror novel. It had great gashes tearing through it as if some monstrous beast had sharpened its claws on the trunk, and when Seth went up on his hind legs, he could look through some of the gaps.

Becky dropped the bag near the entrance and started to shift back, stretching and sprawling until she was human again, on her back and looking up at the sky. "You said you wanted to take some pictures," she said, voice sluggish. "But we forgot your bag."

Not quite ready to shift back yet, Seth settled beside her, resting his muzzle on her hip and wagging his tail when she stroked his ears. It gave him a whole new appreciation for how his dog could sit in the same spot for an hour if you were willing to pet him. With her other hand, she pulled out his phone and typed in the code. "It wasn't that hard," she said when he gave a surprised snort. "You picked the premiere date of _Game of Thrones_." Once his phone was unlocked, she went into the camera app and framed the tree as best she could. "What do they call that when you use weird angles? Forced perspective or something?" She lurched to her feet and started to look for other things to photograph.

Seth would have happily run with her all night, but he knew some of the moon's greatest pleasures were yet to come, so he didn't mind forcing himself back to human form. The suddenness of it took his breath away for a few moments, but he caught up with Becky quickly enough. "The tree is this way," he said, picking her up with one arm around the waist and carrying her back to the bigger hollow tree.

"I was trying to find you some shamrocks—" Becky stopped when Seth plucked his phone from her hand and let her back down on her feet. "Hey!"

"That was leading to a _getting lucky_ pun, wasn't it?" Seth pulled her in close and kissed her. "Come on. Show me the inside of this tree."

Becky grabbed his free hand and led him into the huge hollow trunk. He expected all sorts of decay within, dangling spider webs and skeletal leaves, but it was oddly peaceful, like the ruins of a cathedral. "We keep it clean," she explained when she saw the look of wonder on his face. The tree looked big enough from the outside, but inside it was cozier, making them press against each other. "There are a few other werewolf clans around and we all share the various territories. Easier that way. I love the light in here," she added, "and the acoustics." The word had barely left her lips when she wrapped a hand around his cock, making him moan. The sound stretched out like taffy, curling all the way up to the top of the tree before dripping back down.

_If one moan sounds like that. . . ._ Seth didn't even bother thinking about the possibilities. He dropped his phone on his bag and pressed Becky up against the tree's inner wall, entering her easily. Soon the tree was echoing their pleasure back at them, the song reverberating through the wood, and in that moment—tangled with Becky, linked to a supportive pack—he knew he'd never have to spend another full-moon night alone.


End file.
